To Correct A Wrong
by Kurinoone
Summary: A mini-fic to expand on the storyline of the same titled oneshot. Harry comes back to his parents at the age of ten, but can he really forget his past and live his life? Will his 'Father' let him? Based on my Dark Prince Trilogy.
1. Coming Back

**Disclaimer** I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

**Chapter One**

It was a typical Friday evening. James had finished another week of dull work at the Ministry of Magic, to come home to his beautiful wife, Lily and his seven year old son, Damien. After dinner, Lily went through the usual bedtime routine with Damien, starting with his bath and James settled down next to the fire, a mug of tea in his hand.

He glanced absent-mindedly to the Christmas tree, still sitting on one corner of the room. A reminder left by Lily to 'take down the decorations' hovered around the tinsel covered monstrosity. James stretched and settled back in his seat. '_Tomorrow,_' he thought to himself, '_I'll do it tomorrow._'

The flames suddenly turned green and leapt six feet tall before diminishing completely. James looked up at three very familiar visitors. Sirius, Remus and Frank all grinned at him.

"Hey Prongs!" Sirius greeted, stepping out of the fireplace.

Remus and Frank followed behind him, as soon as Frank's foot left the fireplace, orange flames returned, bursting back to life.

James smiled at them.

"You could at least let me know you were coming," he playfully complained. "I could've been busy."

Frank waved a hand at him.

"It's seven in the evening and you have a seven year old in the house." he winked at him. "You're not getting _busy_ for another ten years at least!" he chuckled.

"You would know!" James replied, aiming a punch at him, but the fellow Auror and Order member leapt out of the way, laughing harder.

Sirius made his way to the kitchen, poking around the dishes.

"You got any dinner left?" he asked.

"Leftovers are in the fridge!" James yelled over to him.

"How can you still be hungry after all you ate at the restaurant?" Remus asked Sirius, following him to the kitchen.

"I have a very fast metabolism." Sirius answered, pulling out the leftovers of roast beef from the fridge. "I need to be fed at regular intervals."

"You're such a child!" Remus chastised.

"Which is why I'm so damn precious!" Sirius grinned as he began picking at the food, not bothering with a plate.

The four men settled back in the living room, chatting good naturedly about everything from work to Order business.

"Do you reckon Dumbledore is right?" Sirius asked, "could the Giants really become allies?"

"There's only one way of finding out." Remus answered.

"Hagrid seems to think it's fairly straightforward." Frank mused.

"_Everything_ is straightforward for Hagrid." James said with a wry smile. "When it comes to potentially dangerous beasts, Hagrid has his unique outlook on them."

"Ah, well, in this particular case, Hagrid's opinion is bound to be a little biased." Sirius added.

The door opened and Lily walked in, having tucked Damien into bed. She wasn't surprised to see the trio sitting around her husband. Their appearance was a regular occurrence in Godric's Hollow, especially on a Friday evening.

"Hi Lily!" Frank and Remus greeted.

"Lils!" Sirius got to his feet, rushing to her. He kissed her twice on both cheeks. "The beef was simply sublime!"

Lily's green eyes narrowed at him.

"You were eating my food again?!" she asked crossly.

"Why of course!" Sirius answered, cracking one of his devilishly handsome smiles at her. "How can it be, that Lily Evans Potter cooks a meal and _I_ don't taste it?!"

Lily rolled her eyes.

"Yes, the world would surely end if you stopped eating our food." she returned.

James got to his feet.

"I'll be back in half an hour," he told his friends. "Damien's waiting for his bedtime story."

"Actually, I better get going," Frank said getting to his feet. "I've got to pick Alice and Neville up from the Burrow."

"Did Alice and Molly convince the boys to make up?" Lily asked.

"You know how kids are," Frank waved a hand at Lily, "at each other's throat one minute and best of friends the next. Alice took Neville over to the Burrow so he could apologise to Ronald and I bet Molly convinced him to apologise too." he grinned, "so now, the boys will be fighting to stay _together_, even though they've spent the entire day with each other."

Lily smiled and nodded her head. Her son was the same. He would fight with Ron or Ginny but couldn't bear to stay angry at them for too long. They always made up just as easily as they fought.

Frank followed James out into the hallway, opting to use the front door so he could apparate to the Burrow instead of using the floo. Frank bid his goodbyes and left, leaving James to lock the front door again and make his way up the stairs, on his way to tell Damien his bedtime story. James had reached the top of the stairs and was just about to open Damien's bedroom door when he heard a knock on his front door.

James hurried back downstairs, thinking Frank must have forgotten something and had come back to get it.

"What is it now, Longbottom?" he asked with a grin as he opened the front door.

The smile rapidly slipped off his face when he saw who was standing at his threshold.

Peter Pettigrew met the shocked hazel eyes of the man that was once his friend. He hesitated a moment before lifting both hands slowly into the air.

"I'm not armed..." he started to say but was cut off when James suddenly grabbed him by his robes. Peter was pulled inside with such force, it made him stumble and almost fall over.

"Son-of-a-bitch!" James spat as he hauled him into the hallway and threw him face first into the wall.

Peter let out a pained cry and fell to the floor. He turned to see James pointing his wand at him and panicked.

"I'm not armed! I'm not armed!" he started yelling, covering his head with his arms, trying to protect himself. "James, please...!" he whimpered.

"Shut up!" James thundered, his wand shaking tremendously in his hand. He was in such fury he couldn't think straight.

Hearing the commotion, Sirius and Remus came to investigate. What they saw, they couldn't believe. Within moments, both men were at James' side, wands out and aimed at the man on the floor. Peter looked up at his three friends, the three boys he had spent his school years with, friends he had cherished at one point in his life and three people he still cared about.

"Don't...please...I-I just w-want..." Peter started.

"James, what is goi-?" Lily stopped at the door, her eyes on the man sprawled out on the floor. Before she could react or say a single word, James shouted over to her.

"Lily, take Damien and go!" James instructed, his eyes still on Peter. "Go! Now!"

Lily didn't argue or fight back. She turned and hurried past the four men and darted upstairs, to protect her son. The four men heard Lily run into the room upstairs and not a minute after the faint whooshing sound confirmed she had used the fireplace in Damien's room to floo out of the house.

Relived that his wife and son were out of potential danger, James turned his attention back to Peter.

"I-I haven't come to..." Peter started shaking his head in protest. "I'm not here to hurt anyone, just give me a chance...one chance...!"

James suddenly went for Peter, his mind consumed with nothing but rage. He grabbed Peter by the neck and forced him roughly to his feet before slamming him against the wall.

"Not here to hurt anyone!" he bellowed. "Not here to _hurt_ anyone!" he slammed Peter against the wall again, his hands wrapped around the other man's neck, determined to choke the life out of him.

"James! No! Let go of him!" Remus and Sirius intervened, pulling James away. "Don't kill him! Not yet!" Remus told him but James was too far gone in his anger to listen.

With difficulty, Remus and Sirius managed to pull James away, releasing a gasping Peter in the process. They wrestled with a resisting James, who was struggling furiously to get free and go for Peter again.

"You bastard!" James spat at Peter, who had collapsed onto the floor, coughing violently the moment James' fingers were pried away from his throat. "You must have a death wish coming to my door!" James yelled, fighting against the restrain of his two best friends, wanting nothing more than to rip apart the traitor that had ruined his life.

Peter pulled himself to sit up, gasping horribly for breath. He shook his head at James.

"I-I never w-wanted to-to hurt you." he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

"You took away my son!" James spat, "you murdered him! You took him to Voldemort!" he shouted. "That wasn't going to _hurt_ me?!"

"I was trying to save you!" Peter suddenly yelled at him, his raspy voice breaking as he did so. "I did what I had to, to protect you and Lily!" he was breathing in short fast gasps, gaze fixed stubbornly on James, regardless of how much hatred he saw in the hazel eyes. "I'm not like you, I'm not strong. I couldn't fight against him, against Lord Voldemort. He got into my head, said everything I feared and believed and I...I couldn't stop him." Slowly, Peter climbed to his feet. "But I couldn't stand back and watch him kill you, all of you," his gaze swept over the other two men. "I thought that if I took Harry, I would be saving all of you." he looked back at James. "The dark lord was never going to let him go, he was going to come for him." he explained fearfully. "But then he gave me a chance, a choice to save your lives. I thought, why not give Harry to Lord Voldemort? At least this way, I would be saving all of your lives."

James bristled and struggled anew, trying to get free but Remus and Sirius kept their grips on him, stopping him.

"You had no right making such a decision!" James shouted angrily. "Who were you to decide who lives and who dies!? Who did you think you were taking my son away from me!?"

Peter looked down at the ground.

"I know what I did was wrong," he answered. "I know that now. That's why I'm here today. To make amends."

He took a single step towards the front door, prompting Remus and Sirius to let go of James and aim their wands at him.

"Stay where you are!" Remus ordered.

"I'm not running away." Peter replied.

"Like hell you're not!" James glowered, darting towards him.

"James, don't!" Remus warned.

"If I was going to run, I wouldn't have come here today." Peter said making James stop in his tracks.

James lifted his wand and aimed at him, eyes now narrowed at him in suspicion.

"Why _are_ you here?" he asked.

Peter took a single step back, to the front door.

"To correct a wrong." he answered quietly.

"You know we're not going to let you leave!" Sirius barked at him.

"I'm not leaving. I don't have anywhere else to go." Peter replied.

His words confused the three Aurors but they didn't say anything. Peter kept both hands in the air to show he wasn't planning anything. He moved back two more steps, keeping his back to the door. At the threshold, he leaned backwards and turned his head to the right.

"It's okay," he said, "You can come in now."

For the next few moments nothing happened.

Then James heard it, a sound, soft and light, like footsteps that were getting louder as they approached nearer. James' wand was still pointed at Peter, like Remus and Sirius' but his eyes were now fixed on the edge of the door. He saw a last encouraging nod from Peter and suddenly a boy appeared from the right of the house, hesitating at the door. James noticed two things right away, messy black hair and startling emerald green eyes. The sight almost made his heart stop. He stared at the boy, with eyes the same shade of green as Lily's, with hair that was messy and stuck up at the back just like his own, at the face that resembled him when he was only a boy.

Next to James, Remus and Sirius drew in sharp breaths. They too were staring at the boy with disbelief.

The young boy was visibly afraid, standing at the threshold of the house, eyes darting from one man to the next, from one wand to the next. He was tense, his body held so tight it seemed as if he was ready to flee at a moment's notice.

Peter put a hand slowly onto the boy's shoulder but his gaze was fixed on James.

"Nine years ago I took Harry away from this house." he said in a shaky voice. "I wanted to be the one to bring him back."

James didn't say anything. He was staring at the ten year old boy, his mouth opening and closing but not a sound left him. He stumbled forward, the wand slipped from his slack fingers and clattered onto the floor. But all James could do was stare at the boy. He took another shaky step towards him, all the while taking in the boy's features, his hair, his eyes, his face, there was no doubt in his mind as to who the boy was. He _knew_ it was his Harry.

How it was possible for his son to be still alive, he didn't know and neither did he care. All that concerned him was that his Harry was standing before him, alive and well. His strength left him at his next step and James collapsed onto his knees before the boy. He stared into the scared green eyes of his son and felt his heart break at the confusion and uncertainty he saw in them. Reaching out with a trembling hand, James gently touched Harry's face, caressing his cheek.

"Harry." he whispered in a voice that cracked and broke.

Harry didn't speak a word but just stood where he was. James lifted his other hand and ran it over Harry's head, feeling the dark locks under his fingers, convincing himself the boy was real and was truly standing before him. Harry looked up at him then, with eyes glistening with tears. James saw the faint quiver of his lips before the first tear spilled out and fell.

Harry moved forwards just as James pulled him into an embrace. He wrapped his arms around the slender boy, holding him tight against his chest. It was a feeling he would never forget, like the bliss one would feel if an old torturous wound was suddenly healed completely.

James didn't realise it until later but he was crying, tears fell from behind his tightly shut eyelids as he held his long lost son in his arms. He felt the child shudder against him and his soft sobs reached his ears. He realised then that Harry had wrapped his arms around him too, gripping at his shirt, as if afraid to let go. James tightened his grip, crying freely now as he murmured Harry's name.

For nine years James had not spoken Harry's name, not brought the name to his lips. He wouldn't, he had promised to himself, not until he had avenged his son's murder. But now it was as if Harry's name was the only word he was capable of saying. James ran a hand over Harry's hair, repeating his name again and again through his sobs.

A green light blazed in the living room behind James and several footsteps thundered towards them. James looked up just as four people ran into the hallway, wands raised and ready, faces flushed with panic. Lily was at the forefront, leading them, Arthur Weasley on one side of her and Frank Longbottom on the other. Just behind them was Alice.

"James! James! I-I..." Lily's panicked yell was cut short when she saw James kneeling on the ground, a boy in his arms.

Arthur and Frank had their wands pointed at Peter but their eyes were fixed on the tear stained face of the ten year old, nestled inside James' embrace. Alice moved forward, coming to Lily's side, staring all the while at the boy.

Lily stared at the child, her eyes wide and unblinking. Slowly she pulled her gaze away and met her husband's tear filled eyes. Her green eyes darted from him to Peter and she stared at him in disbelief. Slowly her gaze found the boy again, but she didn't speak a word.

Gathering himself onto his trembling legs, James got up and took a hold of Harry's hand. He walked the short few paces to stand before Lily, gently bringing Harry along with him. Lily was staring at Harry, her eyes welling up with tears but she was yet to say a word or ask a single question. Her tears fell as she continued to gaze at the boy, but still she failed to move or say a single word. Beside her, Alice softly touched her shoulder.

"Lily?" she shook her gently, trying to break her out of her shock.

Lily never noticed. To her it was as if she was the only one in the room with her long lost son. Slowly, she lowered herself onto her knees, staring intently into the boy's eyes the whole time. Hesitantly, she reached out, faltering at the last moment before pushing herself to touch the boy's chest. She let out a strangled sob as her hand came to rest onto Harry and not go through him as she feared. He was really here. She wasn't imagining it.

With a desperate cry she pulled Harry into her arms and hugged him. She was sobbing, crying harder than she had in years. She pulled away and started kissing Harry, on his face, his hair, his neck. She kept pushing the hair away from Harry's head, as if to make sure he was really here and if he was okay. She saw the horrid jagged scar on his forehead, shaped like a bolt of lightening and she cried out at the sight of it but was in no fit state to speak and ask him about it.

Harry was crying too, burying his head into Lily's shoulder, to hide from the prying eyes of people he didn't know, that were staring at him. James was kneeling next to him, rubbing a hand down his back, trying to calm him. But it seemed all it did was make the boy more hysterical and he pulled away from James, pushing himself deeper into Lily.

Alice gestured to Frank and Arthur, asking them non-verbally to move from the doorway so Lily could take Harry into the living room. James and Lily rose to their feet and guided Harry into the room, silently welcoming him back to Godric's Hollow after nine years.

xxx

Frank and Arthur were standing on either side of Peter, as Remus cuffed his hands with conjured rope. Alice had already left Godric's Hollow to go and personally inform Dumbledore of what had happened. Sirius was fire-calling his home, checking if Dumbledore had arrived yet. That left Frank, Arthur and Remus to guard Peter, even though the man had stated repeatedly that he wasn't about to run away.

"I've got nowhere to run to." he said. "After tonight, Lord Voldemort will be after my blood." he swallowed heavily, clearly petrified. "When he sees that I took Harry away, he'll come after me. It's better that I'm here, with the Order. He can't get to me here."

"If you're so afraid of him, why did you risk your life to bring Harry back?" Frank asked, revulsion and anger evident in his voice.

Peter didn't answer right away. After long minutes, he looked over at Frank.

"I was contended to watch Harry die. But I couldn't stand back and watch him lose his soul."

All three were shocked.

"What?!" Remus hissed. "Dementors?"

Peter shook his head sadly.

"There are worse ways to lose your soul." he answered.

Sirius walked into the hallway, having made his firecall.

"Dumbledore is at the headquarters, as is the rest of the Order, more or less." he nodded at Peter angrily. "We can bring _him_ in now!"

Peter dropped his head as they walked into the living room. From the corner of his eye he noticed James and Lily sitting on the sofa, Harry between them. Both adults were talking to him, but Harry didn't look like he was even listening. Peter could tell the child was emotionally exhausted, his entire life as he knew it, had been flipped onto it's head. This new life he had started by coming back home to his family was not going to be an easy one to settle into, especially since he harboured such horrific memories of this place, of his supposed parents. Peter didn't know everything but he knew enough to understand how difficult it was going to be for Harry to stay here, even though Harry now knew it wasn't his parents that abused him and it wasn't here that all those horrific things happened to him. But Peter believed James and Lily would succeed in the end. They would get through to Harry and love him so much that Harry would soon forget all about his past and be able to live happily with them.

Peter wanted to tell James, to explain what Harry had believed for so many years now. But he couldn't bring himself to tell the man that his son was beaten, starved and mistreated horrendously since he was barely two years old. He couldn't tell him and Lily that up until today, Harry believed it was his parents that hurt him and hated him. He wanted to tell them so they could understand Harry better and help him but he was far too afraid of the consequences. James would kill him for sure. He decided to keep quiet and let James and Lily figure it out on their own.

James looked up at Peter as he passed him, heading for the fireplace. He got up, leaving Harry with Lily and crossed the room to reach the fireplace. Sirius prepared the floo so Frank and Arthur could reach the headquarters first and be ready to receive Peter. Remus moved a little to the side, leaving James and Peter to face each other.

Both men stared at each other, not sure of what to say first. James was the one to break the silence.

"I know that what you did tonight will cost you your freedom." he started. "You can't go back to being a Death Eater and neither will you ever be a member of the Order again. Whatever fate Dumbledore decides for you is of no interest to me." James said. "But a part of me, however small, will be forever grateful to you for bringing back my son." his eyes hardened almost at once. "But you were the reason I lived for nine years away from my son. You tore apart my family. You betrayed my trust and for that, I will never forgive you."

Peter nodded his head.

"I know," he answered. "I didn't expect you to forgive me."

James moved away, allowing Sirius to take a hold of Peter by the arm and pull him into the green flames. Sirius and Peter were gone the next moment, gone to the headquarters where Dumbledore would be waiting for Peter. There was plenty of information the Order could get out of him.

James turned around to see Harry, his heart leaping in his chest again at the sight of him. Remus walked behind him into the fireplace.

"I'll bring Damien back from the Burrow, you stay with Harry." he told James.

James nodded, immensely grateful to his friend. Remus left and James turned around to face his wife and eldest son. A very tense and uncomfortable silence fell between them, with James and Lily looking among themselves and Harry focusing only on the floor. James slowly made his way back and sat down next to Harry.

"Are you okay?" James asked, noting how dejected the boy seemed.

Harry didn't look at him as he answered.

"Yeah, just tired."

James felt his heart jump again. It was the first time he had heard Harry speak and his voice was the sweetest sound to his ears. Lily looked over at James and he could see in her eyes she was feeling the same elation at having heard her son's voice.

"Do you want to lie down? Rest for a bit?" she asked, her arm still draped around his shoulders.

Harry shrugged, apparently not sure what he wanted at the moment.

"How about some dinner first?" James asked. Harry didn't respond so James stood up. "The kitchen is this way." he said, pointing at the door opposite them.

Harry suddenly jerked his head up, his eyes narrowing in the direction of the kitchen. They widened with panic and he shook his head quickly.

"No, I'm...I'm not hungry!" he said.

James shared a puzzled look with Lily.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Lily asked.

"Nothing, I-I just want to stay here." Harry replied.

James didn't say anything and sat back down but couldn't help but feel a little alarmed at how Harry had reacted to going into the kitchen.

"You must have many questions." Lily said softly to him.

Harry shook his head.

"No, I understand what happened." he answered sadly. The truth was he didn't understand anything other than that he was lied to by the 'father' he worshipped.

James ran a hand over Harry's hair again, noting how the action made Harry tense, almost like he was fighting with himself not to flinch. He took a moment to really study the boy. He found he was surprised at how well fed and healthy Harry looked. He didn't have glasses, something James had been certain Harry would have when he was older, as everyone on his side of the family wore glasses. He was tall for a ten year old and genuinely perfectly healthy looking.

James had fully expected Voldemort to keep Harry in the poorest of conditions. It was a relief to see that wasn't the case, very confusing and unbelievable but a relief nonetheless.

"There is so much I want to talk to you about." James said, "but I can see you're very tired."

Harry only nodded, eyes downcast.

"Do you want to rest?" Lily asked and she couldn't keep the disappointment out of her tone. She didn't want Harry to leave her sight. She had just got him back, she wanted to stay with him all night.

Harry looked over at her and nodded again.

James and Lily got up and led Harry to the guest room upstairs. Harry walked into an average sized room and instantly headed for the bed. He wasn't sleepy in the least but felt so exhausted that he could barely remain on his feet. He sat down on the bed as Lily left the room to go next door to Damien's room to gather some clothes for Harry, clothes that she would have to resize for him but she pacified herself that she would go shopping for Harry' clothes as soon as it was morning.

James was left alone with Harry. He walked over and sat down next to him.

"Not in my wildest dreams did I think, I would get you back." he said quietly. "I believed for the last nine years that you were..." he stopped himself saying the word. No parent would want to say the word 'dead' and their child's name in the same sentence. "I know that you're probably feeling a little scared right now, I can see it in your eyes." he told Harry. "But believe me when I tell you this. No one is going to hurt you, not while me and your mum are around. We won't allow as much as a scratch to come to you."

Harry looked over at him and his green eyes glistened with unshed tears. He nodded his head at James but didn't speak. Neither did he allow a single tear to escape. James moved forward and wrapped one arm around Harry, pulling him closer and kissing the top of his head.

"You're safe Harry, I promise you, you're safe. I let you down once with Peter, but I'll die before I let you down again." James whispered to him.

Harry nodded against him, closing his eyes tightly.

Lily came in with pyjamas that belonged to Damien, resized to be bigger. She put them down onto the bed.

"Try these on, Harry. They should fit."

Harry moved away from James, prompting the man to get to his feet.

"Sleep now Harry. We'll talk tomorrow. We have nine years worth of catching up to do." he smiled.

Harry didn't answer but mentally cursed to himself. He didn't want to tell him anything, not about his childhood, not about Voldemort and not about what it was he had been training to become.

He didn't want them to know he had killed a man tonight, that he was a murderer. No, all he wanted was to sleep, to rest for a bit and then he might be able to think, think about what had happened and all that he had learned tonight and what that meant for him and his future. He looked up at the two people as they bid him goodnight and reluctantly left him alone in the room.

Harry stayed sitting on top of the bed, trying with all his might to calm down. Four hours ago he had been in the main chamber in Riddle manor, being instructed to kill a Death Eater. Now, he was sitting inside Godric's Hollow, trying to process the truth that he had been stolen out of this very home nine years ago and that he was targeted because of a prophecy.

Everything he remembered was a lie. He hadn't run away when he was four, he wasn't mistreated by his parents and _Voldemort_, he hadn't saved him. He was the one who did everything. Voldemort had him stolen from his home with the intention to kill him. Voldemort was the one who had hurt him, who would beat him with the belt and slap him so hard the blow would throw him to the ground. Voldemort was the one who starved him, who ridiculed him, humiliated him. Voldemort was the one who had held his hand down onto the oven shelf and burned him. And he did it all under the pretence of being James Potter.

Harry lifted up his right hand, staring at the skin, the perfectly unblemished skin that held so many invisible scars it would turn him insane if he saw them. He dropped his hand onto his lap and breathed out heavily. He was still so confused, why did Voldemort do this to him? Why play this drama? Why act like he cared when he obviously didn't?

Harry pushed himself onto his feet, roughly pulling off his clothes. He wouldn't think about this anymore. He had to _stop_ thinking about Voldemort. It was over. He got away. He was away from Voldemort and he was going to do all he could to keep it that way. He was back home, back with his real parents. Harry picked up the pyjamas and put them on, feeling rather strange wearing clothes that had broomsticks and balls printed on them.

He had just thrown his other clothes on the back of the chair when a knock sounded on the door. He turned around to see it open and his mother appeared in the doorway.

"I was hoping you were still awake." she smiled brightly.

Harry tried smiling back but he couldn't manage it completely.

"I was just getting ready." he replied.

"I wanted to introduce you to someone." Lily beamed.

From behind her, a little boy peeked around at him. He had dark hair like Harry but big hazel eyes that were fixed on the ten year old boy.

"Is that him?" he asked Lily excitedly.

"Yes, this is Harry," Lily smiled. "Harry, this is your brother, Damien."

Harry was caught off. He looked back at the boy who had walked out from behind Lily and was now standing next to her, studying Harry intently.

"This is so cool!" Damien grinned suddenly.

"I'm going to be waiting for you in your room," Lily reminded Damien. "Five minutes and then come to your room so I can tuck you in." she looked over at Harry. She was going to come to him after putting Damien to bed, even if just to sit with him as he fell asleep.

Damien nodded but his eyes were still on Harry.

Lily gave both boys a last look before quietly leaving, clicking the door to close behind her. Damien took a step closer to Harry.

"Are you really my brother?" he asked, as if he couldn't believe it.

"Yeah, I guess so." Harry replied. "How old are you?"

"Seven," Damien answered. "When is your birthday?"

"It's past, I was ten in July." Harry answered.

"You're the same age as Ron and Neville!" Damien happily pointed out.

Harry, having no idea who either boy was, decided to keep quiet.

"Ron and Neville are going to be so surprised when I tell them I have an older brother!" Damien grinned again. Then, abruptly his smile faded and he tilted his head to the side. "Where have you been all this time?" he asked.

Harry shifted from one foot to another.

"Did...they, um, m-mum and dad not...tell you?" Harry asked uncomfortably.

"They said you were stolen away and given to You-Know-Who." Damien answered.

"Yeah, I was." Harry confirmed.

Damien didn't show much of a reaction, but Harry figured he was only seven. What did he understand about Voldemort?

"So? Where were you?" he asked again.

"With...Voldemort." Harry answered, confused.

"But _where?_" Damien stressed.

"I can't say." Harry replied.

"Why?"

"Because it's under the Fidelius charm." Harry answered.

"What's a Fidelius charm?" Damien asked.

"It's...it's to keep something a secret." Harry answered.

"Why is it a secret?" Damien asked.

Harry let out an annoyed hiss of air.

"Why are you asking so many questions?!" he said.

Damien shrugged.

"Because I want to know." he answered simply.

Harry narrowed his eyes at him but secretly found he quite liked that answer.

The door opened and Lily appeared again in the doorway.

"It's getting very late, Damy," she said gently. "Time for bed."

"But I want to talk to Harry." Damien protested.

"You can talk to him all you like tomorrow." Lily said, taking Damien by the hand. She looked up to meet identical green eyes. "He's always going to be with us from now on." she smiled.

Damien let himself be pulled out of the room, looking back at Harry once he reached the door.

"Night, Harry!"

Harry nodded at him in response and watched him leave. He felt a smile force it's way across his face. He knew that boy was going to be annoying as hell with his constant 'why' and 'where' and 'what' questions but he couldn't help be a little excited at having a younger brother. He had a proper family, a dad, a mum and a little brother.

Harry lay down in the bed, sighing out a deep breath before smiling. Maybe things would work out in the end after all.

xxx


	2. The Next Day

**Disclaimer** I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

**Chapter Two**

He didn't know what it was. Maybe it was the bed, or the way the room felt horribly small and claustrophobic, or the fact he could hear every creak the house made, but Harry couldn't sleep. He lay uncomfortably in bed, one that was perfectly adequate for a ten year old boy, feeling that he may fall out if he rolled over. His gaze darted over the darkened ceiling, trying to make out the corners of the room, in an effort to convince himself the room wasn't too small for him.

He knew he was being silly. The bed and the room and everything in it was fine. It was only because he had grown up sleeping in a bed four sizes too big and had a room the size of the whole of Godric's Hollow put together, that he was feeling uncomfortable like this. He shifted awkwardly on the bed, carefully manoeuvring himself to lie on his front, the usual position he slept in. He lay with his eyes open, his ears strained to pick up all the strange sounds the house made in the night.

He was glad when the first morning rays flitted into his room, peeking in from the gap in the curtains. He pulled himself up and was already clicking his fingers, for the house elves to appear and take his breakfast menu, before he fully realised it. He cringed as his loud snap rang in the quiet room. He waited, just in case his parents really did had house elves. But no one arrived at his feet, bowing so low, their heads touched the floor. No one arrived to ask what the Dark Prince wanted for his breakfast today. No one disappeared with a pop, wringing their ears with nervousness to get the child's meal exactly as he wanted it.

Harry stayed sitting at the edge of his bed, staring ahead at nothing, just listening to the silence of the sleeping house. He looked to the clock on the wall to see it was five in the morning. His heart lurched. If he was still home, he would be up, starting his training. He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. '_Not home, it's not your home. This is your home!_' he reminded himself.

He rubbed at his eyes and got up. Barefoot, he padded across to the door and slowly creaked it open. The house was quiet, the rest of it's occupants still asleep. Harry slid out of the room and looked around. He remembered this house, '_no, not this actual house'_ he corrected himself, the fake one Voldemort had fooled him into believing was Godric's Hollow. From memory, he knew the bathroom was two doors down. He crept quietly to it, to wash up.

It was only when he was standing before the mirror in the bathroom that he realised, he didn't even have a toothbrush here. He had left it in Riddle manor. Everything he had, he had left behind; his clothes, his shoes, his wand, his weapons, his books, the chess set he used to play with Draco, damn, even Draco he had left. He had walked away from it all, in one night; Draco, Lucius, Bella and...Harry paused, his heart skipped a beat at the mere memory of his once father, Lord Voldemort.

Harry closed his eyes and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. What would Voldemort do when he woke up today to see Harry was gone? Around six is when Voldemort usually joined Harry for breakfast every morning. In an hour's time, he would realise Harry had left him.

He looked up at the mirror and brushed aside his hair, to reveal the lighting bolt shaped scar. How mad would Lord Voldemort be? What would he do? Harry roughly pushed his hair so his bangs hid the scar. He wouldn't think about it. Not until he _had_ to think about it. He knew his scar was going to hurt, even though he was far away from Voldemort. He knew the Dark Lord's anger at his disappearance would be of the extent that his scar would act up. But there was nothing he could do about it, so what was the point of worrying?

After washing up the best he could, Harry went back to his room, closing the door firmly behind him. He got changed out of Damien's resized pyjamas. He felt marginally better, being in his own clothes. He opted to sit by the window, to admire what little was there to see. He stared at the frost-covered streets, completely deserted, save for the odd cat wandering around the gardens. Remnants of snow lay, crusted on the sides of pavements.

He watched the birds as they fluttered from tree to tree, twittering and chirping. He rested his head against the glass of the cold window and just sat, staring at nothing, trying his best not to think about anything. He closed his eyes.

That's when he felt his scar begin to prickle. His eyes flew open and his heart gave a little flip as he realised, at this very moment, Voldemort was looking for him in Riddle manor. He sat up, his hand pressed into his scar, the other gripped the window ledge. Slowly the ache started, escalating to a fierce burning. Harry clenched his teeth together, as a groan fought past his lips. His scar used to hurt like this when he was near Voldemort. Harry didn't expect it to hurt this much when he was so far away from him. His eyes shut as he focused on not making a sound, he didn't want to wake up his sleeping parents, or his baby brother. With every passing moment, the pain in his scar got worse, burning hotter and aching so fiercely, it turned his stomach. It was just as well he hadn't ate anything since yesterday. Harry bit his lip, moaning as the pain reached to an unbearable level. His grip on the window ledge was beginning to hurt his hand.

Unable to take it anymore, Harry staggered away from the window, gasping at the blinding pain. He moved towards the bed and fell onto it. His groans were becoming louder as the pain continued to intensify. With his eyes still shut tight, he reached out to feel for his pillow. He grabbed it and bit into it, muffling his cries of agony. He lay still, working his frantic breaths around his groans. The pain never dulled. It didn't go away. It got worse and worse until finally, Harry passed out.

xxx

The knock on the door was what woke Harry up. He jolted upwards, his heart hammering against his ribcage. Wide-eyed, his gaze darted to all corners of the room, before he remembered where he was. He made to sit up when the pain in his scar quickly reminded him why he was sprawled out on the bed, face down, drenched in sweat, with his clothes and shoes on. He winced and moved slowly, his hand came up to touch his forehead. The scar felt hot under his fingers.

The knock sounded again and this time, a soft voice called from behind the door.

"Harry? Are you awake?"

It was Lily.

Harry scrambled to sit up, cursing under his breath.

"Uh, just...just give me a minute!" he called out, getting to his feet and wincing as his scar still throbbed in pain.

He grabbed the bed cover and wiped his sweat soaked face clean, erasing all signs of his agony. He made sure his damp bangs hid his raw looking scar from view before walking to the door. He opened it to find Lily, waiting patiently. She smiled at him, so brightly, it almost made Harry smile.

"Morning." she greeted.

"Yeah, um, morning." Harry replied.

"You got changed," Lily nodded, "look at that, your dad and brother are still snoring in their beds, and here's you, all washed up and dressed."

Harry smiled then and Lily almost stopped breathing at the sight.

"I was up, so I figured I should, get dressed." Harry mumbled, giving a one shouldered shrug.

"Breakfast will be ready soon." Lily said, unnecessarily pointing to the stairs, below which was the kitchen. "I only came to see if you were awake." she smiled at him, again. "You...you want to come downstairs?"

Harry stepped outside and closed the door behind him. He walked alongside Lily, down the stairs and into the hallway.

"How did you sleep?" Lily asked.

"Fine." came his automatic response.

Lily nodded.

"I know it must seem...strange, waking up in a different room."

Harry didn't reply and an awkward silence fell between them.

"I woke up this morning, terrified yesterday was only a dream." Lily confessed in a quiet voice. "That's why I came at your door, I wanted to check you were really here. I didn't want to walk in and find an empty bed." her hand came to wrap softly around his, making the boy look up at her, "I still can't believe you're back."

Harry didn't know what to do or say. He looked away, his hand tensed in hers but she didn't let go.

"Anything particular you'd like for breakfast?" Lily asked, leading the boy towards the first door on the right.

Harry only shook his head, horribly uncomfortable for a reason he couldn't fully understand.

Lily pushed open the door to the kitchen and stepped inside. She only made it past the threshold when she felt a pull at her arm and suddenly, she lost contact with her son's hand. She turned to look at Harry, to see he had come to a stop, standing at the threshold, his eyes wide as he stared at the kitchen.

Lily frowned.

"Harry?" she asked, gently, "what is it?"

Harry shook his head, with great effort.

"Nothing." he managed in a quiet whisper.

He forced himself to walk inside, to cross over the threshold. His hands curled into fists and he cursed inwardly. '_Damn it, Harry! Stop it! It didn't happen here! Stop freaking out!_'

He walked past the door and came further into the kitchen. He looked around the room, his stomach turning as everything, every corner, every possible thing, down to the smallest detail, was exactly the same as he remembered it. There was the same wooden table that his parents used to sit at, the same gleaming worktops and cupboards, the same tiled floor and the very same cooker, sitting at the side.

Harry stared at it, his gaze focused on the oven door and slowly, the screams started, echoing in his head. His own screams, pleading, _begging_ his dad for mercy. He could almost smell the horrid stench of his burnt flesh and it made his insides twist and stomach roll. From all the hellish memories he had, this one was his worst and it was slowly coming alive, in front of his eyes.

"Harry? Harry? What...what's wrong?" Lily was beside him, confused at her son's strange reaction. He was just standing there, staring at something, his breathing getting heavier and heavier, the colour draining from his face. "Harry? Harry?"

Suddenly, Harry snapped out of his daze. Fearful eyes met Lily's worried ones. He pulled his arm out of her grip and shook his head, stepping backwards.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, "I can't do this. I'm...I'm sorry."

"Harry?" Lily started but the boy turned and fled from the kitchen. "Harry! Harry!"

She ran after him, in time to see him reach the front door, pull it open and dart outside.

"Harry!"

She raced out the front door and down the icy path, but by the time she got to her front gate, Harry was gone.

xxx

Lily ran down the street, still in her nightdress, but she didn't care. All she could think about was Harry and finding him. She searched the block, ran all the way up to the small park, six streets away, but there was no sign of him. Besides herself with panic, Lily ran back to the house, screaming James' name as soon as she entered.

Her husband came running down the stairs, his hair sticking up at all angles and sleep still lingering in his hazel eyes.

"James! He's gone! Harry's gone!" Lily sobbed.

All traces of sleep vanished from James and he darted down the remaining steps.

"What happened?!" he demanded.

"I don't know!" Lily wept, "He was...we...we were talking and...and he was fine...until we went into the kitchen and he...he just...it was like...like something spooked him...he just...he got scared, James, he got really scared...!" Lily grabbed at James' clothes, hysterical with panic, "...he...he just ran...he said he was sorry...that he couldn't do this and...and he left...he ran and by the time I got to the gate...he was gone...he's gone!"

James grabbed Lily by the shoulders, trying to calm her.

"It's okay, Lily, just...please just...calm down," he urged. "You stay here with Damy, I'll go out and look for him. He can't have gone far."

"I looked!" Lily cried, "I looked for him, he's not here!"

"He's ten," James reminded, "it's not like he can apparate. He'll be around here, somewhere. He just got scared or...or...overwhelmed or...something," his heart clenched at the thought of his son being upset in his own home, with his parents, but he pushed that to the back of his mind. He couldn't think about that right now. "You stay here and remain calm. You don't want Damy seeing you like this."

That did it for Lily. She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes, spilling more tears down her cheeks, but she was fighting to be calm. James turned and darted upstairs to grab his shoes and cloak. In almost no time, he was racing back downstairs. He opened the door, gave Lily one last encouraging nod and he set off, darting down the street, to look for their son.

Lily turned and ran up the stairs, heading straight to Damien's room. She walked in, grabbed the nightgown hanging behind the door and hurried over to her still sleeping seven year old and knelt next to his bed.

"Damy, Damy, honey wake up." she said, gently shaking him awake.

The child moaned sleepily, rubbing at his eyes.

"Mum?" he murmured.

"Hey, Damy, what do you say, we go to Ron's for breakfast? Would you like that?" Lily asked, as calmly as she could. Her voice still shook but Damien was far too young and sleepy to notice.

He sat up in bed, still rubbing his eyes and yawned.

"Ron's?" he asked.

"Yeah, come on. Let's go, it'll be fun."

Lily picked up the boy, hastily wrapping his still bed-warm body in the nightgown and grabbed his slippers in one hand. She hurried to the floo, awkwardly threw in a fistful of floo powder, and called out to the Burrow.

xxx

Lily met James, four streets down from Godric's Hollow. Their eyes met from adjacent streets and both hurried to cross the road and reach each other.

"Anything?" Lily asked anxiously.

"No," James replied, heavily, his breath misting in he air, "what are you doing here? Where's Damy?"

"I left him with Molly." Lily replied, "I couldn't just sit at home, I had to come out and look for Harry." she explained.

James squinted in the bright morning sunlight, his gaze searching the streets.

"I don't get it," he said, "where could he go?"

"You don't...you don't think he...he wouldn't go..." Lily struggled to voice her fear, but James didn't need to hear her say it, he knew what she was thinking.

"He wouldn't go back to him." James said, with such conviction, it calmed Lily at once. "let's keep looking. He has to be here." James set off down the street, Lily by his side. "If we can't find him, we'll go back and firecall Remus and Sirius, contact Dumbledore," James was fighting to stay positive, to not give in, to have a plan. "It'll be okay, we'll find Harry. We'll find him."

Lily nodded and hurried down the road, her gaze darting every which way.

xxx

It took them more than an hour to finally admit Harry was nowhere to be found and they returned to Godric's Hollow. Both James and Lily walked back in silence, defeated and heart broken, trembling in a mixture of nerves and December's chill. Neither of them had the courage to offer each other support, or even empty promises. They reached the gate and pushed it open.

Sitting on the front steps was the boy they had been desperately searching for. Harry sat in front of the door, with his head bowed, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped, looking just as tired and defeated as his parents.

James and Lily stopped in their tracks, blinking in stunned surprise. Harry looked up at them, but he didn't say a word. He dropped his gaze to his own hands, seemingly unable to look them in the eye.

Lily ran and dropped to her knees in front of him. Her arms wrapped tightly around him.

"Oh, thank God!" she whispered into Harry's neck, "thank God, you're okay." she let go and pulled back to stare at him, both hands cupped his cheeks. "Don't ever do that to me again." she said, her voice so broken, the demand sounded like a desperate plea.

Harry only nodded, his eyes downcast, refusing to meet her watery green eyes.

James walked over and was kneeling before him as well. His concerned hazel stare made Harry look up at him.

"You alright, son?" James asked quietly.

Harry nodded and dropped his eyes to the ground again.

James and Lily shared a troubled look.

"You're freezing," Lily said, rubbing her hands up and down Harry's arms, "come on, let's go inside."

Harry closed his eyes, as if steeling himself for something deeply unpleasant, before tiredly getting to his feet. Lily and James led him inside heading for the living room, but Harry stopped in the hallway, refusing to take a further step.

"Harry?" James turned to him, "what's wrong?"

But Harry shook his head.

"Nothing," he spoke to James but still wasn't looking at him. His gaze was fixed on his right shoulder. "I'm just...I'm not hungry." he looked behind him at the stairs, "I'm...I'm going to go to my room."

He turned and started climbing the stairs. Lily made a move towards him, but James held onto her hand, stopping her.

"Go get, Damy," he whispered, "I'll talk to Harry."

"But..."

"It's alright, I got this." James gently nudged her towards the living room, so she could use the floo. "You go and get Damy."

Lily reluctantly moved into the living room and James walked up the stairs. He stood before Harry's closed door and took a moment to calm himself. He knocked, waited a few seconds and opened the door. Harry was sitting on the bed, looking lost and dejected. The sight made James' heart clench painfully. He walked in and came to sit next to him.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" he asked. "Why you ran out?"

Harry shook his head, his eyes closed again and James could see the muscle twitch in his clenched jaw. He reached out, his arm slowly draped around the boy's shoulders but all it did was tense Harry further.

"I understand," James said softly, "taking all this in, coming back, it must be overwhelming." his hand moved over to Harry's back, "It's okay, Harry." He started rubbing soothing circles across his back. "I know what you're going through..."

Harry flinched, jerking away from James' touch.

"No, you don't." he said quietly, a hiss underlining his words.

James went quiet, stunned by his ten year old's sudden coldness. He disregarded it, pushed it away, far back in his mind, to analyse another time.

"You're right, I don't know." he said, "I can only imagine, and that doesn't even come close to what you're going through." he watched as Harry relaxed a little, his shoulders eased as some of the tension ebbed away. "But it will get easier, I promise. It'll all get easier." his hand closed over Harry's. "We're here, your mum and me. We're with you and we'll _never_ leave you alone again. We just have to take it slowly, take it one step at a time, one day at a time."

Harry looked around at him then, his green eyes, so much like Lily's, locked with James.

"I know," he said quietly, "it's just...it...it got a little...too much..."

"I understand," James nodded quickly, "you'll have to forgive us, Harry, if your mum and I come on a little too strong," he smiled wistfully, "getting you back is like having all our dreams and wishes come true. It might make us a little..." he searched for the right word, "...over excited. If you find it too much, just tell us to back off, but please, don't ever run out like that again."

Harry shook his head.

"I won't," he said quietly, "sorry." he added at the end hastily.

James smiled and reached up to run a hand through the boy's messy locks.

"Don't apologise," he said, "you know, when I was your age, I would have a falling out with my parents, I used to hide in this very good spot, round the back of the house. I'll show it to you later. If you need time to yourself, you can go there."

Harry looked up at James, first with surprise and then confusion.

"You...you grew up here?" he asked.

"Yeah, this was my parents' home," James told him happily. "Your grandparents' home." he corrected. "It's been in the Potter family for generations."

Harry looked away again and nodded. James noted he didn't look particularly thrilled at the news. If anything he looked dejected.

The sound of the floo going off downstairs reached the room, before footsteps echoed up the stairs. Sure enough, the door to Harry's room opened and Damien came running inside.

"Dad! Dad! Look what Ron gave me!" he ran over excitedly, waving a blue and gold card in the air.

"A Chocolate Frog card." James faked the enthusiasm, "wow, Damy, that's cool! Who'd you get?"

"Nicky Flames!" the boy announced.

James chuckled. Next to him, Harry turned to look at the young boy with a frown.

"You mean, Nicholas Flamel?" Harry corrected.

Damien looked at the card in his hand and back up at Harry.

"Ron said his name was Nicky."

Harry smiled, his eyes brightening to their usual emerald green. A hint of mischief lit them.

"Then Ron's an idiot."

Damien's mouth dropped open and eyes went wide.

"Uh-oh! You said a bad word." Damien pointed a finger at him.

"No, I didn't." Harry frowned.

"Yes, you did," Damien nodded, "mum says that word is a bad word."

Harry turned his head to look at James, who was smiling widely at the two boys. He winked at Harry.

"I didn't hear you say anything," he whispered, "your mum, though, has much better hearing."

Harry looked like he didn't know how to react but his brother quickly drew his attention.

"Do _you_ have Chocolate Frog cards?"

"Chocolate Frogs?" Harry asked, as if he had never heard of them, "erm, no, I don't."

Damien looked disappointed. He turned and ran out the door. Harry could hear the door to the next room opening and rustling of drawers opening and closing. In no time at all, Damien came running back inside, a pack of cards in his hands. He thrust them into Harry's lap.

"I have lots," he said, "Ron gave me a few and Neville gave me two but I got the rest myself."

Harry looked through the pack of twenty something cards, each depicting a famous witch or wizard.

"That's...cool."

Harry handed the pack back and Damien took it proudly. Something flickered over the young child's face and he fingered the cards thoughtfully. He looked at Harry and back at his cards. He picked one and held it out to him.

"You can have one, if you want."

Harry looked surprised. He eyed the card.

"What for?" he asked.

"You collect them." Damien said, like it was the simplest thing in the world, "everyone collects them."

Harry shook his head.

"I don't want it."

Damien pulled back his hand but he still held the card in one hand, the rest in the other. Harry felt James put a hand on his shoulder.

"I think Damien wants you to start a collection too." he said quietly, smiling.

Harry looked back at the card and then the seven year old boy. He held out his hand.

"Go on then, if it makes you happy." he sighed.

Damien handed him the card with a grin.

"We'll have race, see who gets the most cards!"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Can't I just say you won?"

Damien shook his head.

"That would be cheating."

"How is that cheating?" Harry asked.

"It just is." Damien insisted.

Harry opened his mouth to argue when his door opened again, this time it was Lily, holding a big tray in her hands. She smiled at Harry, her eyes softening as they met his.

"I thought breakfast in bed might be a good idea."

James got up and helped her, taking the weight of the tray from her. He put it on top of the bed and Harry's stomach growled at the sight. There was a stack of toasts, a bowl of scrambled eggs, bacon strips and a jug of orange juice. There were also two bowls of porridge with a dollop of honey in the centre.

Lily came to sit next to Harry, as James picked up Damien and sat him on top of the bed, on the other side of the tray. Lily brushed a hand through Harry's hair.

"I know you said you're not hungry," she started, "but maybe you could have a small bite?"

Harry looked over at the tray and his stomach grumbled loudly.

"I'm sure I can manage that." he smiled.

Lily picked up a plate and filled it with a bit of everything and handed it to Harry. She did the same for Damien. James picked up a plate and filled it for his wife before getting a plate for himself.

Harry had never, in his life, had breakfast in bed. He looked around at the other three, all sitting comfortably on his bed, happily tucking in to their breakfast. Harry found himself mesmerised by the scene. And here he had spent the night, feeling the bed was too small for him to sleep in and now all his family was piled on top, each in one corner, happily having their breakfast.

"I was thinking," Lily started, "we could redecorate your room," her bright eyes met Harry's, "you know, turn it from a spare guest room into _your_ room."

Harry could honestly care less but he swallowed his mouthful of eggs and nodded.

"Fine, yeah."

"You can pick your colours," Lily continued, "Damy did the same, although your dad and I had to interfere, he wanted luminous orange."

Harry smiled.

"Luminous orange, huh?" Harry asked, nodding at Damien, "sounds like fun."

Lily laughed.

"Yes, well, creative rights and everything aside, the room still has to resemble a room, not the core of the sun." she teased.

Damien was happily finishing his bowl of porridge, not a care what the rest were talking about. Harry looked over at him and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

xxx


	3. No Mercy

**Disclaimer** I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

**Chapter Three**

Lily picked up her mug and sipped at the hot, sweetened tea. It soothed her, calming her like only tea could. She sat for long minutes, staring absently at the spot on her wall, her mind on other things. More accurately, _one_ thing in particular. She let out a dejected sigh, catching her husband's attention. He lowered his copy of the Daily Prophet and looked at her.

"Lily?" he asked, his brow knitted in concern.

She shook her head at him, lowering her mug onto the table.

"It's nothing," she said, half heartedly. She tapped the mug with her finger, chewing her lower lip in thought. "It's just," she sighed, "don't you think it's time we talked to Harry, about...about him?"

James' expression darkened.

"No." he replied curtly.

"Come on, James," Lily said, turning to him, "neither of us have even tried talking to Harry about Voldemort."

James' eyes narrowed at the name, his jaw clenched tight. He couldn't stand even the mere mention of that _bastard_ in his home.

"I don't want to," James replied, "it's only going to upset Harry."

"It's not something any of us _want_ to do," she explained, "but it's vitally important that we do it. We have next to no idea what Harry's been through, what Voldemort did to him, how he treated him..."

"I can guess!" James seethed, "and I'd rather not know the details."

Lily paused.

"We have to know the details, James. We can't possibly understand Harry, until we know what kind of a life he's lived. There's something about Harry that just...it scares me."

James' expression changed suddenly, concerned and a little alarmed.

"What do you mean?"

"It's difficult to explain," Lily sighed, closing her eyes. "It's...little things that he says and does," she gestured to the table they were sitting at, "like this, for example. He refused to go into the kitchen after his first morning, so we pulled the table from the kitchen into here," she gestured to their living room, "and he's perfectly happy to eat here now. Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

James kept quiet.

"When Damien wanted to play Quidditch, Harry point blank refused." Lily continued, "what ten year old boy do you know, that doesn't want to play Quidditch?"

"Yeah, that one actually hurt." James agreed.

"It's not funny, James!"

"I know," James replied, "I know," he repeated, subdued, "we'll talk to him," he agreed reluctantly. "I just, he's only been back a few days, he's trying to adjust and I don't want to make him uncomfortable."

"Neither do I," Lily agreed, "but it's a one time conversation and then it'll be over. No one will bring up Harry's past with Voldemort again."

James nodded, his heart clenching horribly.

Before he could say anything, there was a loud yell and a door slamming shut. Footsteps thundered down the stairs, accompanied by loud shouts and screams. James and Lily turned in their seats to see the door slam open and Damien bolted inside.

"MUM!" he shrieked and ran to hide behind her.

"What...? What's going on?" Lily turned to him, with wide surprised eyes.

She got her answer a split second later when Harry ran in behind him. His angry green eyes found Damien and he darted for him.

"You little twerp!" he yelled.

"Whoa! Whoa!" James held up a hand, halting Harry, "what's going on?"

Harry pointed a finger at Damien.

"He was going through my stuff!"

"Was not!" Damien quipped back, still hiding behind his mum's chair.

"Yes you were!" Harry returned, "I went to the bathroom, came back and he was going through my things!"

James and Lily turned to the pink faced seven year old.

"Damy?" Lily asked.

"It's not his stuff, it's my stuff," Damien explained, teary-eyed, "I wanted my blue, _moonies_ top and it's in his drawer."

Lily turned to meet James' eyes, looking awfully guilty.

"I'm sorry, Damy," she hugged him close, "it's my fault. I've not had a chance to go shopping for Harry and had to give him some of your clothes, just for the time being." she shot Harry an apologising look too. "Tell you what, on Saturday, we'll all go shopping. I'll get you and Harry both a _moonies_ top, okay?"

"But it's mine!" Damien whined. "I want it now."

"Alright, you can have it," Lily pacified. "I'll resize it again and you can have it back."

"But you shouldn't go through your brother's stuff," James explained, "you should have asked Harry, he would have got it for you."

Damien turned to look at Harry, who was still glaring at him.

"Can...can I have my top back?" he asked.

"Please." Lily reminded.

"Please?" Damien added.

Harry glared at him.

"You touch my stuff again, I'll pummel you into next week!" he warned, before turning to the door, heading for his room.

Damien blinked in surprise at his retreating back and turned to look at James again.

"No he won't." James assured, with a smile.

Harry was back, within minutes and held out the blue top to Damien. The boy gave an excited yelp and rushed forward to grab it, smiling like nothing had happened. He was pulling at his shirt, trying to get it off so he could change into his top.

"Here, let me help." Lily chuckled, guiding the small boy to one of the sofa's.

Harry turned to go back when James stopped him.

"A quick word, Harry?" he motioned to the chair next to him.

Harry sat down at the table.

"I know that Damy can be a bit much," James said with a smile, "but try not to scare the living daylights out of him, eh?"

Harry looked somewhat, happy with himself at that comment. He shot another look at his younger brother, who was getting dressed by Lily. But his green eyes had softened now, not much anger in them, just a slight annoyance. He looked back at his dad and nodded.

"That's my man!" James ruffled Harry's hair affectionately.

Harry forced himself to stay seated until James pulled his hand back. He nodded stiffly again and made to get up.

"That all?" he asked.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something else," James said. "We have two visitors coming this evening."

Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Visitors?" he questioned. "who?"

"Remus and Sirius," James uttered the two names with pride, eyes shining, "they're my best friends, both of them are more like family than simply just friends." he explained. "They're coming over to spend New Years eve with us, just like they do every year." he smiled at Harry, "but this year, they're coming more for you, to see you."

Harry suddenly looked taken aback.

"See me?" he asked, "what for?"

"What for?" James laughed, "what do you think?" when Harry continued looking lost, James had to explain, "they want to meet you, to get to know you. I told you, Remus and Sirius are like an extension of our family and you're a big part of our family. It's only natural they would want to get to know you."

Harry didn't look particularly excited or even happy, but he nodded anyway.

"Okay." he muttered.

James didn't understand why Harry looked like that, dejected and even a little annoyed. He sat back to silently study his son, the feeling of dread growing in his gut. Maybe Lily was right. Maybe they did need to talk to Harry, so they could learn all that there was to their son.

xxx

The floo went off at exactly five in the evening, and out stepped Sirius Black, closely followed by another burst of green flames that brought with it the arrival of Remus Lupin.

Sirius walked across the room, grinning broadly.

"Ah, Godric's Hollow!" he sighed with great relish, "how I've missed you!"

"What exactly did you miss?" Lily asked, coming into the room at the sound of the floo going off.

"My sweet Lily flower, I missed you the most." he teased.

Lily rolled her eyes.

"I know exactly what you've missed," she replied, walking across to him, "eating all my food." she playfully slapped him but leaned in for a hug. Never would she say it out loud, but she had missed Sirius.

Remus walked over and got his hug too, before the three walked into the kitchen, where a special 'New Years Eve' dinner was being prepared.

"Hey guys," James greeted, hazel eyes shining at the sight of them. "How you been?"

"Bored," Sirius grouched, "I swear it Prongs, there is no one out there as fun as you are."

"I think you mean 'crazy' not 'fun'." Lily corrected.

Sirius picked up a carrot stick from the salad James was preparing and jumped on top of the worktop, munching on it.

"What'd you do with the table?" he asked, pointing to the empty space that used to have the table.

James tensed a little, but quickly answered.

"Changed about the furniture, just to try something new." he answered.

"So, how have things been?" Remus asked.

"Good, really good." James smiled, his grin spreading from ear to ear. "It feels like a dream, having Harry back."

"How's Harry coping?" Sirius asked, "it must be a lot for him to take in."

James and Lily both became subdued by the question.

"He's okay, taking his time to open up," Lily replied, "it's to be expected."

"We're trying to take it slow with him," James said, "the first morning he came back, he ran out after things got too much for him."

"Damn," Sirius whispered, "that tough, huh?"

James shrugged, focusing on the cucumber sticks he was preparing.

"It's to be expected," he repeated his wife's words, "just because he's back, it doesn't mean he'll automatically feel at home." he shook his head, the knife in his hand quivered a little. "His life changed completely. It'll take him time to adjust to this life and forget about...about _him_."

James didn't need to say Voldemort out loud. Everyone knew whom he was referring to.

"Has he said anything?" Sirius asked, "about...about living with him?"

James shook his head.

"No."

"We haven't spoken to him about it." Lily added.

"You haven't?" Remus asked, looking surprised. "Nothing at all?"

"I told you, he's still not one hundred percent comfortable yet." James said in a biting tone, "I don't want to make him even more uncomfortable by bringing up that _bastard!_"

Remus fell quiet, but his eyes continued to stare at James.

"We are planning on sitting down with Harry at some point and having an open discussion." Lily said, feeling the need to explain. "We're just waiting for the right time."

"Better hurry it up," Sirius said, jumping back down from the worktop, "cause there are plenty of others just itching to talk to Harry about Voldemort."

James and Lily both turned to him.

"What?"

"Who?"

"Dumbledore," Remus answered, "he asked us to deliver his message, asking when it would be suitable for him to come over to meet Harry."

"Got to say, I'm surprised he's stayed away this long." James grouched, "I half expected him to come over the night Harry came back."

"You can't expect him to stay away forever." Remus said.

"And very soon, you're going to have Minister Fudge come knocking." Sirius pointed out.

James cursed, running a hand through his hair.

"I don't want this," he hissed, "I don't want Dumbledore and especially Fudge, harassing Harry for information on Voldemort!"

"You don't want it because it's your son." Remus tried, "but Prongs, even you know deep down, Harry's our only chance to bring down Voldemort once and for all."

"If Harry's seen his inner circle, we can have all of them behind bars in a day." Sirius said.

"If Harry knows where Voldemort is hiding," Remus shook his head, "Prongs, we can get him. We can actually bring Voldemort _down_."

"It doesn't have to be Harry!" James fumed, "they've got Peter! Dumbledore and Fudge can interrogate _him_ for all the information! He probably knows more than Harry anyway."

Remus and Sirius shared a troubled look and avoided James' eye.

"What?" Lily asked, "what's wrong?"

Remus met her gaze, preferring to stare at her instead of James as he delivered the news.

"Peter's dead."

James froze, the knife still in his hand. He stared at Remus, so hard that Remus turned to look at him.

"When Fudge found out Peter had come back with Harry, he ordered Dumbledore to hand him over to the Ministry." Remus explained. "Dumbledore didn't want to, but Fudge gave him no other choice. The night they took Peter into custody, he was attacked in his cell. They found him in the morning with his throat cut."

James swallowed heavily, his heart thudding at his insides.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked quietly.

"We figured you didn't need to know," Sirius answered, "you were home, bonding with your son. For the first time in nine years, you were actually happy." he shrugged, "we didn't want to ruin it."

James nodded tightly. His mind was a mess. Peter was dead. The man he had hated with a passion, the boy he had grown up with at Hogwarts, one of the marauders, the one who took his son away and the one who brought him back, that Peter was dead. He didn't know how to feel, should he mourn the death of his former friend or sigh in relief that another Death Eater was gone from the world?

"Voldemort got to him," Remus said, "one of his spies did the deed, killed Peter while he was in custody."

"Harry has the answers," Sirius said quietly, "if he gives us names, we can get the Death Eaters, maybe even the ones that are in disguise all over the wizarding world. Get his Death Eaters, Voldemort's support is weakened and sooner or later, we can get him as well."

James let out a frustrated sigh.

"I know," he muttered, "I know," he put down the knife and for a moment, he just stood with both hands leaning on the worktop, head bowed. "It's just...I wish it wasn't Harry that had the answers." he looked up with pained eyes. "My son's been through enough, I just want him to be safe, to have normality in his life. What I don't want is Order meetings and appointments with the Minister where he has to relive his life with _Voldemort!_"

Lily turned away, her heart heavy and painful at James' words. She didn't want that either for her son. Remus went after her, embracing her, silently offering comfort in the way that only he could. Sirius clapped a hand on James' shoulder.

"If there was any other way of getting the low down on Voldemort, you know me and Moony would have found it." he looked at his best friend with apologetic eyes. "It's going to be tough, but we're all here for Harry. He'll have to tell what he knows once and that's it. After that, Merlin help the son-of-a-bitch that harasses my Godson for information."

James smiled.

The door to the kitchen opened and Damien came bustling in, jumping past the door, coming to land on both feet, as if he were pretending he was an acrobat.

"Done!" he yelled loudly. "Harry! I'm in!"

"Good for you!" came Harry's sarcastic voice from the living room.

Damien didn't seem to notice the tone and turned, with a grin stretched across his face. His eyes widened at the sight of Remus and Sirius, standing with his parents.

"Uncle Siri! Uncle Moony!" he bounded across the kitchen and leapt into Remus' outstretched arms.

"Hey Damy." Remus hugged him close. He had missed his Godson.

"Hey pup!" Sirius came over to ruffle the boy's hair and took him from Remus' arms to give him a good tight hug.

"Uncle Siri! y-you're s-squashing me!" Damien giggled, trying to pull himself out of the bear hug.

"I am?" Sirius played innocent. "Oh well, I'm gonna have to put you down then.

He lowered Damien and plopped him back on his feet. Damien put both hand on his hips.

"Where have you been?" he asked, adopting a tone very similar to Lily's 'telling off' voice. "You didn't come in _ages!_"

"It's been four days, Damy." Sirius chuckled.

Damien started jumping on the spot.

"Uncle Siri! Uncle Siri! Guess what? I have a brother!"

Sirius slapped a hand to his forehead, faking a look of surprise.

"No!" he cried, "no way, I don't believe you."

"Yeah, yeah I do!" Damien insisted. "his name is Harry and he's ten, just like Ron and Neville!" he leapt forwards and grabbed his hand, "come on, I'll show you!" he slipped his other hand into Remus' and tugged at both men. "Come on! He's in the room! Come on, come on!"

James and Lily watched with smiles as Damien led his two uncles to meet his big brother.

xxx

Remus and Sirius only had to step outside the kitchen to find Harry. The boy was sitting on one of the sofa's in the living room, a pack of wizarding cards in his hands, head lowered as he searched through them. Both men had seen Harry, the night he had returned, but at that time the shock and surprise of finding Harry alive had taken over them. They hadn't really seen Harry, not properly. Both had been preoccupied by taking Peter to the headquarters.

"Harry! Harry, look!" Damien cried excitedly, still holding hands with the two men.

Harry looked up and paused. His emerald eyes skipped past Remus and settled on Sirius. The dark haired man smiled brightly at him, blue eyes softening and he stepped towards him.

"Hi, Harry." he beamed.

Torturous memories flooded back to Harry. Sirius Black. His dad's best friend. The man that tormented him.

Harry stared at the grinning man, his heart jolting at the memory of that smile. He remembered how Sirius Black would stand back and grin widely when his dad used to beat him. He would egg James on, tell him to hit harder, to not hold back. Then there were the times he used to join in, pin him down with his foot as James belted him. Sirius would slap him hard enough to make his nose bleed. He remembered one time in particular, Sirius Black had punched him, so hard it knocked his tooth loose. Harry remembered the agony. He remembered the fear that he would lose all his teeth, because his dad and Sirius Black seemed to enjoy the sight of him bloodied on the floor, spitting out his teeth.

"Harry? Harry?"

Harry jolted out of his daze, leaving behind the nightmarish memories and blinked at the two concerned looking men.

"What?" he mumbled.

"You okay?" Sirius asked, "your eyes sort of...glazed over." he tilted his head a little, questioning eyes fixed on the ten year old, "everything okay?"

Harry nodded, '_it's not him, it was never him! All Voldemort, it was all Voldemort!_'

"Yeah," Harry managed to squeeze the word out past his constricted throat, "everything's fine."

Sirius didn't look convinced and Remus looked downright worried. But both men didn't say anything, opting to start things over instead.

"Let's try again," Sirius gave a lopsided grin. "I'm Sirius Black," he held out a hand, "nice to meet you." he chuckled.

Harry rose to his feet, steeling himself, he reached out and shook hands.

"Remus Lupin," Remus shook hands with him next.

Harry nodded at him. He didn't know Remus Lupin, had no memories of him. For that, he was extremely grateful.

xxx

That night, as Harry got ready for bed, he thought about dinner. It would have been a nice experience, if it wasn't for his extreme discomfort being in the company of Sirius Black. He berated himself, it was all his fault. He was the one that kept thinking about his childhood. He was the one that kept looking at Sirius and remembering his slaps and punches. Why couldn't he just ignore all that? Like he had been doing with his mum and dad? Why couldn't he just _forget_ about it all?

Harry shook his head as he pulled on his pyjamas. Sirius was very different to the version he remembered. _'Of course he is! It wasn't Sirius that hurt you!'_ he told himself again. This Sirius was funny, man was he funny. He kept Damien laughing throughout dinner. He had a charm about him that Harry wished, wished with all his might, he could enjoy. But sadly, all he could do was think back to the abuse he had suffered at the hands of a man he believed to be Sirius Black.

Remus Lupin was different. He wasn't as funny as Sirius. He didn't have the same charm either, but Harry found himself drawn to him. He had a quietness about him that Harry could relate to. It was as if the man, like Harry, harboured dark secrets. Harry felt it in the man's intense gaze, as he periodically glanced at him throughout dinner.

Frustrated, Harry flopped back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, fuming at himself. He had been quiet throughout the whole dinner. Any questions Sirius or his dad asked him were answered with one worded answers or worse, a shrug of the shoulders. He must have seemed so rude. After all, how were they to know he felt sick, that his throat was so constricted he could barely swallow his meagre two spoonfuls of mash potato, never mind have long conversations? He had eventually given up on dinner, pushing back his still full plate. Harry groaned, reaching up to rub at his eyes. They must think of him as a prat, plain and simple.

A knock at his door made Harry sit up. Lily came inside, smiling softly.

"Just thought I would tuck you in."

Harry refrained from sighing out loud.

"You don't have to do that." he repeated the same sentence he had said, every night, since he had come back.

Lily walked over to him, gently running her hand through his locks. Harry kept himself as still as possible, tensing as Lily's soft fingers caressed his hair.

"You okay?" she asked, "you were awfully quiet at dinner tonight."

Harry didn't meet her gaze.

"I was tired." he offered weakly.

"You didn't eat much either." Lily said, sounding upset.

Harry steeled himself.

"I wasn't really hungry."

Lily peered at him, emerald eyes studying him closely.

"You okay, hun?" she enquired, "you're not coming down with something, are you?"

She placed a hand on his forehead, to check his temperature but Harry flinched away.

"Yeah, I'm...I'm fine." he muttered. He moved to the head of the bed, pulling back the covers to slip inside.

Lily seemed thrown by his abruptness but she forcefully pushed it away. Harry was still adjusting, he didn't like close contact, she had learned that over the last few days. It would take time for him to open up, she consoled herself. She tucked Harry in, taking care to make Harry as comfortable as possible.

"Harry," she sat down beside him, "there's something I want to talk to you about."

Harry prepared himself. This was it. She was going to ask about his obvious discomfort around Sirius. He knew it. He had been stupid enough to show his distress and now his mum wanted to know why. What was he going to say? How would he even begin to explain?

"Your dad and I are going to talk to you about this properly, but, I just wanted to explain something to you." Lily took in a breath, "honey, over the next few days, there might be people coming over to speak to you."

Harry blinked up at her. He wasn't expecting that.

"To me?" he asked, "why?"

"Well," Lily shifted, looking terribly uncomfortable, "they want to ask you about...about Voldemort."

Harry's expression shifted. His eyes grew colder all of a sudden and his mouth pressed into a thin line. He held Lily's gaze.

"What about him?"

Lily felt the harshness in his voice and it surprised her. A ten year old shouldn't know how to speak in such a tone.

"They want to ask you questions, ones that might help them in capturing Voldemort." she answered.

Something flickered in Harry's eyes.

"Capture?"

Lily nodded.

"They think that you may have information that will help them track Voldemort down. If they find him, they can capture him. Stop him before he hurts anyone else."

Harry bristled a little but remained quiet, eyes fixed on his mother.

"What people want to talk to me?"

"Well, I think we'll have to take a trip to the Ministry, where the Minister for Magic will want to talk to you." she said, "and we have a visitor coming in a day or two that wants to meet you and talk to you about Voldemort. He's the head of an organisation that fights against Voldemort. His name's-"

"Albus Dumbledore." Harry said.

Lily stilled, her eyes narrowed.

"How did you know that?"

"I've heard of him." Harry replied.

Lily swallowed heavily. She didn't want to know who had mentioned Dumbledore to him. She could only imagine what the context must have been.

"Dumbledore is a very good friend of ours," she felt the need to point this out. "You can trust him, Harry. He'll do whatever he can to get to Voldemort."

Harry didn't say anything, but looked away, breaking eye contact.

"I just wanted you to know. I didn't want you caught off guard if Dumbledore arrives tomorrow, first thing." she smiled at him, "there's no knowing what that man may do." she leaned over and kissed Harry. "Goodnight, sleep tight."

Harry nodded. Before Lily could get up though, he turned to her.

"Mum?"

Lily halted in the process of getting up.

"Yes, Harry?"

The boy hesitated.

"What would happen to him? I mean, if he's caught?"

Lily turned so she was sitting, facing him.

"He'd be locked up," she replied, "he wouldn't be able to hurt you, or anyone else."

Harry nodded tightly.

"Would...would they give him the Kiss?"

Lily was taken aback.

"You know what the Kiss is?" she asked, horrified.

Harry nodded again.

"Would he be given the Kiss?" he repeated.

Lily felt lost. What was she supposed to say to her ten year old?

"To be honest, Harry, I don't know." she sighed, "that would be up to the courts to decide his fate."

"Kiss without trial." Harry whispered, "isn't that his fate?"

Lily felt a cold sensation seep down her back. She really didn't like that way Harry was speaking, much, _much_ wiser than his ten years of age.

"Don't think about his fate." she leaned over, grabbing a hold of his hand. "Voldemort has done horrendous things. He took you away from us, kept you away from your family."

"I know," Harry nodded again, pushing with all his might to keep the memories of his childhood buried deep in his mind. "I know he deserves it."

"Yes, yes he does." Lily agreed, "Voldemort has to pay for all the bad things he's done." she moved closer to him, running a hand over his messy locks again. "He has to be punished and the Kiss is the punishment for all those who commit such horrendous acts like he has."

"Like what?" Harry asked.

"He's done plenty," Lily said, her eyes burning with hate, "he has broken many families, caused enough destruction to last a lifetime." she met Harry's eyes, "but the absolute worst thing anyone can do, Harry, is take a life. When you kill another being, you destroy yourself, tarnish your very soul and without your soul, you're damned."

Harry didn't speak, he didn't even breathe. His mum had locked eyes with him and told him what he feared the most.

"And Voldemort, he's killed more people than you can imagine." Lily shook her head in disgust, "there's no mercy for those that take a life." she said, "Voldemort will pay for his crimes. When he is captured, he'll be brought to justice. It's what's right."

Harry felt like he couldn't breathe. He vaguely heard his mum say goodnight, barely felt the second kiss on his cheek, his mouth opened of it's own accord and he distantly heard his voice uttering 'goodnight' to his mum, but he was lost in his own thoughts.

His mum said those that kill are damned. That meant he was damned. He had killed. The night he came back, the night Peter brought him here, that was the same night he had killed for the very first time. It didn't matter that he didn't want to do it. It didn't matter that his killing curse failed three times because he didn't _want_ to kill that Death Eater. All that mattered, was that he took a life and for that, there was no mercy. None at all.

As the last seconds of the year ticked away, James, Lily, Sirius and Remus celebrated the start of a new year, rejoicing that this year, their family was complete. Harry spent that night lying awake, left in the darkness of his room, dwelling in nothing but horror.

xxx


	4. The Trip to Diagon Alley

**Disclaimer** I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

**Chapter Four**

"Now remember, Harry, don't get nervous, okay? There's no reason to get nervous," Lily babbled as she fixed Harry's collars and ran her hand down his shirt, smoothing it out. "I'm going to be by your side the whole time, okay? If there's anything he asks that upsets you, just squeeze my hand and I'll end the whole thing, okay?"

"Mum, it's fine." Harry answered quietly. "I don't need to hold your hand."

"Yeah, Lily, he's ten." James teased.

Lily shot him a glare.

"You stay out of this!" she hissed at him, "this is all your fault!"

"Mine? How?" James asked, putting down the morning paper.

"You couldn't have told Dumbledore to come later?" she snapped.

"I told you, he fire-called last night and sort of, invited himself over. What was I supposed to say?"

"How about, _no, Dumbledore, not tomorrow, we're busy, maybe another day?_"

"You know it's not easy to say no to Dumbledore." James reminded. "Besides, maybe this way it's better. It gets this whole business done and out of the way."

Harry shifted uncomfortably, feeling his heart jolt painfully. He knew it wasn't going to be a 'one-time' thing. Everyone he met was going to ask him about Voldemort. It was a miracle he had made it eight days without anyone asking him about the Dark Lord he had called 'Father' for the last six years.

_'Nine years! It was nine years, not six!'_

He reminded himself. He didn't want to get caught saying it out loud. He would have no way to explain it without the truth.

He looked up at his mum, still fussing over his clothes and his messy hair. He turned to glance at his dad, sitting at the table, smiling and allowing Lily's annoyance to roll off him. What would they do if they found out how he was raised? If they found out he believed it was them that beat him, tortured him, abused him? Harry felt a shudder run down his spine. It would ruin everything. They wouldn't be able to look him in the eye. It would make things horribly uncomfortable between them. He might even end up losing them.

"Harry? What's wrong?" Lily asked, at once noting the faint tremble run through him.

"Nothing," Harry mumbled, "just feel a little cold."

Lily cupped Harry's cheeks, her hand moved to his forehead and Harry barely managed not to wince as her fingers rubbed against his prickling scar.

"You don't have a temperature." she said, "are you feeling ill? Do you feel sick?" without waiting for an answer, she looked up at James, "call Dumbledore, tell him it's cancelled today, Harry's not well."

"I'm fine," Harry mumbled again, "really, mum, stop fussing."

"Lily, I'm not exactly keen on this meeting either," James said, "but I do think it'll only get harder the longer we wait. If Harry's up for it, let's get it done today and forgotten." His eyes fell on Harry, "what'd ya say, champ?"

Harry grimaced. He hated that word.

"Yeah, sure."

James beamed at him.

"That's my man!"

xxx

At exactly noon, the floo to the Potter's living room erupted in green flames and Albus Dumbledore arrived, looking as graceful as ever.

He stepped into the room, smiling at James and Lily as they got up from the sofa, where they had been sitting, waiting for him.

"Good afternoon, Lily, James." Dumbledore nodded politely.

"Dumbledore," James shook hands, "you're exactly on time, like usual."

"Time is an awful thing to waste." Dumbledore smiled, "one of those few things that can never be recovered."

They took a seat around the table. Lily hurried into the kitchen for some tea and refreshments. Dumbledore spoke quietly with James.

"How is Harry? I hope he's settling well."

"He's doing great," James replied, "it's taking time for him to open up, which is understandable."

Dumbledore nodded.

"I look forward to meeting him."

James shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable.

"I know that you mean well, Dumbledore," he started, "and I'm well aware of how much good can come out of what Harry tells us, but," he paused, working out how he should say what he wanted, "my main priority, is my family. The last thing I will tolerate is my son being harassed." he met the cool blue eyes with determination. "If Harry doesn't want to answer your questions, I hope you will grant him that right. I have not asked Harry one question about Voldemort or his time spent with that monster, for the simple reason that I don't want to upset my son." his hazel eyes hardened, "I won't stand anyone upsetting him either."

Dumbledore smiled and nodded.

"Rest assured, James, I'm not here to upset anyone, least of all, Harry."

The door opened and Lily walked in, carrying a tray with tea cups and a plate of biscuits and pastries. The three sat around the table, making polite conversation and drinking their tea. Once it was finished, Lily silently got up to go and fetch her son. It was time for the meeting to start.

xxx

When Harry walked into the room, with Lily by his side, Dumbledore knew with one glance, this boy would change the world. It was like his once-friend, Grindelwald, used to say, _'There are those that come into this world to live, and others who live to make the world their own.' _This ten year old boy held that spark, that aura, which suggested he was destined for great many things. His heart clenched tightly as he remembered that day he went into the orphanage, so many years ago and met a young boy, similar in age to Harry, who held that same spark, that same aura. He too was destined to change the world, and Voldemort changed it indeed.

Dumbledore got up from his seat and walked around the table, just as Harry came further inside, followed by Lily.

"Harry Potter," Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling bright, "it's great to finally meet you. Allow me to introduce myself, I'm-"

"Albus Dumbledore," Harry spoke the name quietly, shadowed eyes fixed on him, "I know who you are."

The white haired wizard smiled at him.

"I doubt my name was mentioned in pleasant context."

A faint smirk lit across Harry's face.

"You can say that."

"Well, I can only hope to change your first impression." Dumbledore said with a small nod.

Harry didn't say anything but his eyes scanned the wizard with quiet intensity.

Lily ushered Harry to the table, where he sat between her and James. Dumbledore took his seat across from Harry.

"I can imagine this conversation is the last thing you want right now, Harry," Dumbledore started in a gentle voice, "but I hope you understand how important it is."

Harry nodded, feeling both his parents' eyes on him, pressing into his mind like physical weights.

"I do." he mumbled.

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes glinted with something akin to triumph.

"The first question I want to ask you, is perhaps the most important one. If answered, we can get to Voldemort and stop him for good."

Harry tensed as soon as Voldemort was mentioned. He forced himself to sit still and kept his eyes locked with Dumbledore.

"Ask away." he replied quietly.

Dumbledore took in a breath.

"Where is Voldemort hiding?"

James and Lily both tensed as well. They looked at Harry, waiting for the answer.

"It's protected," Harry replied, "by the Fidelius charm."

James cursed quietly, but Harry still heard him. Dumbledore didn't look at all surprised.

"His secret keeper?"

"Himself." Harry answered.

Dumbledore nodded.

"It's not like Voldemort to trust anyone but himself. I had guessed as much." his eyes darted back to Harry and he inclined his head, "thank you, Harry, for confirming it."

Harry shifted in his seat, visibly uncomfortable with Dumbledore's gratitude.

"Do you know where any of his hideouts are?" Dumbledore asked, "any such place he visits often or has as a backup hideout?"

There were plenty. Harry was sure he knew only half of them. Lord Voldemort had many contingency plans in place. But he answered,

"No, I don't."

Dumbledore stared at him.

"What about his Death Eaters? Could you give a few names?"

Harry felt his heart twist. Death Eaters. He knew most of them. Some by name only, heard in passing from his father. But two Death Eaters he knew by face. Two Death Eaters he had grown up in the midst of and had cherished as much as he did his father. Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry looked up to see James watching him closely, a strange sort of thirst in his eyes. He too was waiting for the names of Voldemort's followers with bated breath, as was Lily. Harry turned back to stare deep into Dumbledore's eyes.

"No," he replied, "I don't know anything about his Death Eaters."

Dumbledore didn't believe him. Harry could see that clearly in the calm blue eyes.

"Pardon me, Harry, but do you mean to say, in the last nine years that you have spent in Voldemort's company, you didn't hear even one mention of a Death Eater?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry shrugged.

"I didn't spend that much time in his company." he replied. It was partly true. Voldemort was mostly away on assignments. "I was alone most of the time."

"Who looked after you?" Dumbledore asked.

"The house-elves." Harry replied automatically.

Dumbledore's eyes gazed at Harry, studying him.

"Do you know of his inner circle?"

"Only by reference. I don't know who the members are." Harry lied easily.

Dumbledore paused, his expression as calm and serene as ever but his eyes showed his troubled thoughts.

"Did you live in the same place as Voldemort?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Is this the same place his Death Eaters came to see him?"

"I don't know."

"You never saw or heard anything about Voldemort's followers?"

"I told you, I was mostly alone." Harry replied, "and it's not like father would discuss his Death Eaters with me."

The air suddenly became thick and taut with tension. Harry didn't realise what had happened. He looked from Dumbledore's saddened expression to his dad, surprised to see anger lurking in his eyes and his tightly clenched jaw. Then it came to him, like a tidal wave. He had said _father. _He had referred to Voldemort as _father _with his dad sitting right there.

The room quietened, with Harry looking firmly at the surface of the wooden table, refusing to meet anyone's eyes, mentally cursing himself for the slip up. Finally, Dumbledore broke the silence.

"So, let me go over this once again," he started, "you can't tell me where Voldemort is, due to the Fidelius charm, you don't know any of his hideouts, or the identities of his Death Eaters?"

Harry glanced up at him, green eyes cold and hard all of a sudden.

"Not as informative as you'd imagined."

There was a definite tone of defiance there.

Dumbledore smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"The mind is a powerful thing, Harry. Perhaps, after some time, you may remember certain things you claim not to know today."

Harry's hands, under the table, clenched into fists.

"Seems unlikely." he said.

"Anything is a possibility." Dumbledore replied, "one only has to give it time and keep faith." He rose to his feet. "I have taken enough of your time today. I must take my leave. Thank you, Harry."

James hurried to his feet too.

"A quick word, before you go?"

Both men left the living room and went into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry," James said, the moment they entered, "I had no idea he would be like this."

James had assumed Harry would point blank refuse to answer a question, he never thought his ten year old would know how to manipulate the questions and answer but not give anything away.

"It's alright," Dumbledore replied, "it's quite understandable. Harry is bound to have natural, defensive instincts towards the place that was once his home, to people he once considered his family." he gave James a reassuring smile. "Give him time, James. Harry will open up, he just needs more time to settle first." he paused for a moment before reaching out to place a hand on James' shoulder. "It's nothing short of a miracle, that Harry's come back." he said. "Take everything in your stride and don't get upset if his tongue slips every now and again. It's only a word. Harry's father is and always will be _you_. No one can take that away, not even Voldemort."

James nodded, attempting a weak smile. Dumbledore left, using the kitchen fireplace to floo out, leaving James alone in troubled thoughts.

xxx

It was the weekend, and as Lily had promised, it was the day all of them were going shopping at Diagon Alley. Harry was less than enthusiastic, even though it was primarily a shopping trip for him.

"I need you there," Lily insisted, doing up Damien's laces. "I need to get you measured and get, well, everything!"

"You can just resize the clothes if they don't fit." Harry argued.

"What's the point in that?" Lily asked, "I want to get you properly measured and have an entire wardrobe tailored to you." she smiled, "doesn't that sound exciting?"

Harry wrinkled his nose.

"Not really."

"Are we both getting Moonies tops?" Damien asked, with a thrilled grin.

"Of course!" Lily beamed at him.

"Yeah!" Damien hopped on the spot and ran to get his coat.

"Glad to see someone's excited." Lily teased.

Harry gave a one shouldered shrug as he finished pulling on his shoes. He stood up and wrapped a scarf around his neck.

"Ready?" James asked, carrying Damien on his back.

Lily smiled and looked over at Harry. She held out a hand.

"Shall we?"

Harry got up and walked over, pulling on his gloves, but made a point of not holding her hand.

"I'm not a baby." he muttered.

Lily dropped her hand, looking a little crest fallen, but she brushed it aside.

"Let's go." she smiled.

"Watch out Diagon Alley," James laughed, "here come the Potters!"

xxx

Harry didn't know what to expect, as he stood before the brick wall at the back of a pub in London. He watched as his dad's wand danced around the wall, touching random bricks in some sort of an order. He found himself holding his breath as the bricks shifted and moved, sliding aside to reveal a gap, big enough for all of them to comfortably pass through. Harry stepped onto the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley, mesmerised by the scene before him. There were shops lines along both sides, their windows displaying all sorts of things. He saw owls and cats advertised in a pet shop, cauldrons and glass phials in another, one had broomsticks, all shapes and sizes proudly displayed and one had popular books arranged neatly in the window.

James didn't miss the look of awe of his eldest son's face. Steeling himself, he asked,

"Have you ever been to Diagon Alley before?"

Harry shook his head, eyeing the Apothecary with interest.

"No, never."

James nodded, hiding his grief behind a strict mask of calmness. Diagon Alley was an experience every child should have. But for Harry, it was merely another joy on a long list of things he had missed out on.

"Well," he managed in a soft voice, "I think a tour is in order."

Clapping a hand over Harry's shoulder, James steered him to his favourite store, 'Quidditch Supplies'. Lily groaned and took Damien's hand.

"I'll just pop into the book store." she said and hurried off, dragging Damien with her.

James and Harry walked into 'Quidditch Supplies' to see it was bustling with people, mostly young boys and girls, around Harry's age and slightly older. James veered his way through the crowd, coming to stop next to a gleaming wooden broom, held under a glass display case. Harry stared at it. It was light brown, every twig in place, a gold cap on it's tip and what looked like grips carved into the front, for an easier handle on the broom. It extruded a radiance he had never seen before. Then again, he hadn't seen a new broom in all it's glory before. Lucius had given Harry his first broom, but it was nothing like this one.

"Isn't she a beauty?" James grinned.

Harry simply nodded, awestruck.

"The new Firebolt 1800." James announced, his eyes sparkling with delight. "This one is a must have."

The shop owner was by James' side in a flash, having recognised his regular customer.

"Mr Potter! What an honour!" the man shook hands with James. "What can I do for you today?"

"Your Firebolt 1800, please." James beamed.

"Certainly, certainly, come this way and we'll get the paperwork signed. You've brought your licence I presume."

"Of course," James turned around to Harry, "I'll just be a minute, stay here, okay?"

Harry nodded and watched James disappear into the crowd again, to go to the counter and make his purchase. Harry cast another glance at the broom, smiling at the sight of it.

"Isn't she something!" a boy said from behind him. Harry turned around to see a group of boys, most of them red haired, except for one brown haired boy, all staring at the Firebolt with wide grins.

"I bet you could reach the stars with this one." said the youngest looking red haired boy, eyes wide and filled with wonder.

"Aye, Ronniekins! That's exactly where it takes you!" teased another red haired boy, who happened to have an identical twin, standing next to him.

"You wanna see stars? We can arrange that." the other twin said.

"Shove off!" the boy, 'Ronniekins' mumbled back.

"I don't like Firebolts." the brown haired boy said. "I think the Nimbus range is much better."

Harry recognised him. He was Neville Longbottom. The Chosen one. Harry had seen his picture in the Daily Prophet numerous time. He was the one destined to destroy Lord Voldemort, according to a Prophecy. Harry felt his heart jolt at the sight of him. Voldemort never seemed too interested in Neville Longbottom, now Harry understood why. Voldemort knew Neville wasn't the chosen one, the chosen one was under his control the whole time.

"There's a new Nimbus coming out next year, Nimbus 2000!" the boy dubbed 'Ronniekins' said excitedly. "It's preview was in 'Quidditch Weekly', it looks amazing!"

"I'll be saving up for that." Neville smiled, but his soft brown eyes darted to the Firebolt once again.

The group of boys moved past Harry and headed out the door. Harry stared after them.

"Right, that's us, shall we go?" James came up behind him.

Harry turned to look at him, noting the rectangular box with the red letters, 'FIREBOLT 1800' printed across it, in his hand. He nodded.

"Yeah, let's go."

They walked out the door and set off further down the cobbled street, heading for the bookshop that Lily was in. They passed various shops on their way, some selling telescopes, some with barrels full of eels eyes and bat spleens and many, many other potions ingredients. They passed a shop with peeling gold letters over the door which read, _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C._ Harry slowed down, staring at the shop window, where a single wand lay, on a faded purple cushion.

James noted his interest and looked up at the wand shop.

"A bit early for a wand." he mused.

Harry snapped his head around in surprise.

"What?" he looked across at the shop again, "no, I was just...looking."

James grinned.

"Don't worry, Harry. You'll be preparing for school soon. You'll get your first wand then."

Harry's stomach clenched tightly. _First_ wand? He had left his _first_ wand, back where he had left his former life, with Lord Voldemort.

xxx

They finally reached Flourish and Botts, in time to see Lily and Damien walk out, a heavy looking bag in Lily's hands.

"Got a month's worth?" James teased.

"Very funny," Lily handed him the bag. "This'll only last a week."

James groaned playfully.

"Why did I get a wife who loves to read!"

Lily raised an eyebrow at him.

"There's a book on Quidditch teams in there."

James' eyes lit up.

"I've fallen in love with you all over again."

Lily chuckled, before her eyes went to the box in his hands.

"Aw, James! Another broom? Don't we have enough?"

"It's the new Firebolt!" James defended, "I wanted Harry to have the best to learn Quidditch."

Harry jerked his head up in surprise.

"Me?" he questioned, "you got the Firebolt for me?"

"Of course I did, who did you think I was getting it for?" James asked with a laugh.

"I...I thought, it was for you." Harry replied honestly.

James chuckled, shaking his head,

"It's for you. Only the best for my boy."

Harry felt his heart flutter at his words. He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. It was perhaps the biggest, brightest smile James and Lily had yet to see. It was enough to make Lily fall quiet and not complain about the broom.

"How about we go for some ice cream?" she said, to instant hoots of joy from Damien.

"What about the shopping?" James asked.

"We've yet to start on the _real_ shopping." Lily smiled, "you boys better stock up on sugar, you're going to need it to keep up."

xxx

When they walked towards Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, Harry saw a long line, queued outside the door, as well as large groups gathered, sitting at the tables, enjoying their iced treats. Sitting across what looked like three tables joined together, were the red haired boys Harry had seen at the Quidditch shop. He spotted Neville, among the crowd of red heads. Next to them were two women, one red haired, undoubtedly the mother of the red haired clan, and a round faced, brown haired women that looked surprisingly familiar to Harry. It was only as he neared them, that Harry realised where he had seen her. She had been at Godric's Hollow that night. The night he had returned.

They were all sitting there, chatting animatedly. There were seven red haired children, lined along the table, six boys and one girl. Harry noticed the young girl first. Her flaming red hair was pulled up in a pony tail, a yellow ribbon tied around it, matching the yellow dress she was wearing. She was talking to Neville, showing him something in her hands. Harry couldn't see what it was.

"Lily! James!" the brown haired women called out, having spotted them. She waved a hand at them.

"Oh my!" Lily happily hurried towards them, "fancy seeing you two here."

"Lily, how have you been?" the red haired women was up on her feet, hurrying to embrace her, "I brought the kids for a last trip. They go back to Hogwarts tomorrow."

The brown haired women was next to hug Lily.

"It's so nice to run into you like this." she said. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"We're all here." Lily said, she looked behind her, where James was walking up with Harry and Damien by his side.

The two women locked eyes on Harry and fell still. The nearer Harry approached them, the more uncomfortable he felt at their never wavering stare. The group of eight at the table were suddenly staring at him too, leaning towards each other to whisper with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes. But he pushed on, only stopping when James and Damien came to rest before the trio of women.

"How are you ladies?" James asked both women, "I see your husbands have escaped this shop-till-you-drop torture today."

Molly smiled.

"Not at all, Arthur and Frank are at the Burrow, preparing dinner."

"Ah, a different sort of torture then?" James chuckled.

"Some men like to cook." Lily informed him.

"Yeah, but Arthur and Frank? not those type of men." James teased.

Lily ignored him and quickly put an arm around Harry, pulling the unwilling boy forward.

"Harry, I would like you to meet two of my very good friends." she pointed at the red haired woman, "Molly Weasley," she turned to the other one, "and Alice Longbottom."

Harry stared at the latter, now that he heard her surname, he connected her features with her son. The same round face, soft brown eyes and gentle expression. The woman smiled at him.

"It's very nice to see you again, Harry," Alice greeted, "have you been enjoying Diagon Alley?"

Harry nodded, half heartedly.

"It's so nice to finally meet you," Molly smiled, "goodness, you look so much like James." she chuckled.

Harry didn't react. Growing up, he had spent each day, resenting the face that stared back at him from his mirror. A little over a week ago, if anyone had said he looked like James Potter, Harry would have struck them down in sheer anger. Now, he knew that anger, that resentment was ill placed, but that didn't make it go away.

Alice turned to Lily.

"Come and join us!"

Much to Harry's chagrin, James and Lily hurried to settle themselves at the busy table. Reluctantly, Harry joined them, sitting between Lily and Damien.

"Hi boys," James greeted the large group, grinning at them. He lifted an imaginary hat and gave a half nod to the only girl, "miss."

The girl giggled.

"Mr Potter." Neville returned the greeting but looked between him and Harry. The other boys were also staring, looking between Harry and James. Taking the hint, James turned to Harry with a smile.

"Everyone, this is Harry," he introduced, "Harry, I would like you to meet Neville Longbottom," James pointed to the brown haired boy, "and these are the Weasley Boys!" he laughed, gesturing to the red haired boys. "This is Bill," he pointed to the boy with long hair, "this is Charlie, Percy" he went down the table, "these two, one is Fred and the other is George," he pointed at the smirking twins, "I've given up trying to figure out which is which."

"Smart move," one of the twins said.

"Our mum still can't tell us apart!" the other added.

James sniggered. He pointed to the youngest red haired boy, the one his siblings had nicknamed, 'Ronniekins'.

"And this is Ron."

The boy nodded at Harry, but didn't speak.

"And last but not in any way the least," James smiled at the girl in yellow, "little Miss Ginny."

Harry met her brown eyes.

"Hi." she greeted, the only one to do so.

"Hi." Harry quietly replied.

Neville and the other Weasley boys were all staring at Harry, something shifting in their eyes as they shared looks and glances. Harry tried to ignore them, but it was proving to be a difficult feat.

"I think the queues going down a little." Alice looked behind her at the door to the ice cream parlour. "You better go if you want any." she nodded at her son.

Neville got up, followed by the other seven.

"It's alright, I'll get them." James made to get up but Molly and Alice stopped him.

"No, let them," Alice gave a pointed gesture at Harry, "it's good for young men to carry some of the responsibility."

James caught on and turning to Harry, he held out a handful of shiny gold coins.

"Get yourself and Damy some ice cream."

Harry looked over at him and then turned to look at the assembled crowd, still staring at him. He wanted to shake his head and refuse, but Damien had already leapt to his feet and went scrambling towards the queue, Ginny running after him. Wearily, he accepted the coins and got up.

He walked to the end of the queue, just behind Damien and Ginny and waited. The crowd of Weasleys and Neville came up behind him.

"So," Neville spoke, getting Harry's attention. He turned to face him and the other six boys, "it's true then. There really is a Harry Potter."

"Seems like it." Harry returned, his tone cold and harsh.

But Neville didn't seem to mind. His face broke into a smile.

"I was sure my parents were having me on." he said.

"Is it true?" Ron suddenly spoke up, sounding terrified, "did...did you really live with...with You-Know-Who all this time?"

"Ron!" Bill snapped, pulling him back by the arm, "what did I say? Don't ask him about that! It's none of your business!"

But Damien had turned around at Ron's question.

"It's true," he answered, as easily as if he were talking about the weather, "mum told me so."

Ron looked back at Harry, blue eyes big and fearful.

"Blimey, that must have been..." he swallowed heavily, trailing off, finding no word to describe what it must have been like to grow up in the clutches of the darkest wizard of all time.

Harry turned around, facing away from them all, his annoyance starting to cloud his senses.

"Don't mind him," Bill said from behind him, "Ron's just having a hard time believing it."

Harry scoffed,

"Try living it." he muttered under his breath.

"I'm...I'm sorry," Ron said, making Harry turn around again, "I never meant...I was just askin'..." he trailed off again. Suddenly he stepped forward and thrust out a hand. "Ronald Weasley." he stated.

Harry blinked at him.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Starting over," Ron replied, "if you mess up, you can start over."

"Says who?" Harry asked.

"The Weasleys." Ron replied, simply.

Harry looked warily at him.

"There's no such thing as a 'start over'." he said.

Ron looked a little dejected but he kept his hand outstretched.

"There is if you try."

Harry stared at him, perplexed at the boy's strange antics.

"Here, I'll start," Neville stepped forward. "Hi, I'm Neville Longbottom." he shook hands with Ron.

"Ronald Weasley." Ron grinned.

Both boys turned to Harry.

"Neville Longbottom," Neville held out a hand.

Feeling utterly ridiculous, Harry reached out and shook hands.

"You know who I am." he said, dryly.

"I'm sorry, I don't have a clue who you are." Neville feigned confusion. "Are you a celebrity?"

"No." Harry replied.

"Then how would I know who you are?"

"For real?" Harry asked.

Neville grinned at him.

"Don't make it so hard, just say your bloody name already!" he laughed.

Harry, despite his confusion and irritation, felt a smile spread on his face.

"You lot are mad," he muttered and took Neville's outstretched hand with a sigh, "Harry Potter."

"There, that wasn't difficult, was it?" Neville grinned.

"Ronald Weasley." Ron thrust out his hand again.

"Harry Potter." Harry smiled, shaking hands with him as well.

"Fred Weasley!" one of the twins held out a hand next.

"George Weasley!" the other one jumped in.

Harry shook hands with all of them, barely holding back his laughter at how utterly ridiculous this was. Just as he finished shaking hands with Ginny, Damien held out his hand.

"Damien Potter!"

Harry finally laughed, shaking his own brother's hand and introducing himself.

"So, Harry," Ron started, "who's your favourite team?"

xxx

Lily watched as the children walked out of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, each clutching an ice cream cone, topped high with layers of different flavours. She smiled deeply as she noticed Harry, clearly enjoying his ice cream, talking with Ron and Neville. Harry took small, almost experimental, licks of his vanilla ice cream, while the other two boys tore great chunks out of their rainbow coloured ones. Ginny and Damien were by their side, eagerly devouring their cones as well. Lily tensed, watching Damien as he turned to say something to Ginny, his hand tilted and sure enough, with a plop, his ice cream fell to the floor, leaving an empty cone in his hand.

"Oh, dear!" Alice, beside her, chuckled.

"He does this every time." Lily sighed. She gathered her handbag, so she could take Damien back into the ice cream parlour and get him another one.

Lily was about to get up when she saw Harry at Damien's side. Damien was pointing at his ruined ice cream, looking upset enough to cry. Harry looked from the blob on the ground to Damien's distressed face and without hesitation, he held out his own ice cream to the seven year old. Damien reached for the offered cone but stopped, his little face turned upwards to Harry and he spoke, asking him something. Harry smiled in response and shook his head. Damien took the cone, grinning wildly and began devouring the ice cream with earnest.

Lily watched as Harry went back to Ron and Neville, back to their conversation, looking happier than ever. Lily wasn't sure why, but the scene she witnessed brought tears to her eyes. She met Alice's eyes and saw her smiling warmly as well.

"He's a sweetheart." she whispered across to Lily.

Lily nodded, she couldn't help but agree.

xxx

After their ice cream treat and bidding farewell to the Weasleys and Longbottoms, Harry was led to many, many shops. He got shoes, seven pairs for different occasions, several new sets of undergarments, an assortment of clothing, ranging from jeans to simple shirts and tops. He got the promised Moonies top, even though he vehemently objected. Damien got a matching top and was ecstatic.

Finally, it was only the robes left. The Potters went to Madame Fiona's Finest Robes, to get an entire wardrobe custom made to Harry's size.

"Not a problem, not a problem at all," the elderly witch stated at Lily's request. "I will show you some of our new and finest collections." She stared at Harry over her glasses, perched at the very end of her sharp nose. "But first thing's first, let's get those measurements." she beckoned him to follow her into the next room, which had a raised platform, a tape measure hovering in mid air and a notepad and quill.

James stopped Harry with a grave look on his face.

"Make sure you hold still, otherwise you'll get ill fitted clothes!" James pulled a face, eyes widened dramatically, holding up a hand to his mouth in mocked horror.

"James," Lily shook her head, "act your age, will you?"

"Never!" James claimed, hands on hips and pushing out his chest. Damien giggled at the sight.

Harry, despite his best efforts, chuckled.

James beamed at him, immensely proud of himself for making his ten year old son laugh.

"Come along dear," the tailor witch guided Harry out the door and into the fitting room.

James and Lily watched through the glass window, separating the rooms.

"Right, come along dear. Just stand here, on top of this platform, there's a good boy!" the witch smiled, her tape measure floated behind her as she fussed over Harry. "Right, now, hold still." she flicked her wand and the tape floated to his right shoulder, straightening down to his feet.

Harry saw James and Lily through the glass window, watching him. James pulled a funny face, scrunching up his features. Harry grinned. James pointed at the tailor's back and pulled his glasses down to perch at the end of his nose and mimicked her, hand on hip, an imaginary tape measure in hand as he began taking Lily's measurements, even as she slapped his hands away. Harry giggled and the tailor frowned at him.

"You have to hold still, dear."

Harry nodded and stood up straight, grinning at James' antics behind the glass. Even his mum was fighting a smile, shaking her head at her husband. Harry stood as still as he could, holding in his laughter at the sight of James pulling faces at him. He knew he was doing it on purpose, to make him laugh and move so the tailor witch fussed over him and took new measurements.

Harry closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at James mimicking the tailor. He peeked open an eye and instantly, James started pulling faces again, so Harry shut both eyes, trembling a little as giggles threatened to burst out of him.

"Hold still, dear. That a boy!" the witch said, jotting down figures on her notepad.

Harry straightened up and kept his eyes closed. He wasn't going to let his dad win. Grinning, he opened his eyes again, only to shut them tightly when James started monkey dancing, with a giggling Lily, urging him to stop and keep quiet.

"Quit it, James! It's not funny!" Lily's laughing voice could be heard from the open door.

"Your father seems awfully hyper." The witch commented absently, taking the measurement of his chest.

Harry smiled, still with his eyes closed.

"Yeah, too much sugar today." he replied.

In a flash, his grin changed when his scar gave a sudden twinge and pain erupted along it. Harry cried out in surprise, a hand darted to his scar and his eyes flew open.

The witch looked up at him with concern.

"What happen-?"

A series of loud pops drowned out the rest of her question. Dark robed men, wearing white masks appeared out of thin air, lining along the walls of the fitting room, surrounding them. A last pop brought with it the tall, dark robed wizard with burning red eyes and a cruel twisted smile.

Harry met Lord Voldemort's eyes and it was as if time had slowed down for him. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but stare at him.

"Harry!"

His parents' scream snapped Harry awake and he jolted off the platform, almost tripping over the tape, tangled in his feet. He turned and darted for the door, despite the Death Eaters around him. He could see his mum and dad, running towards him. The door slammed shut, before Harry or his parents could get near it.

"Harry! Harry!"

Loud thumps and bangs hit the door as James and Lily pounded at the wood. But Harry knew they weren't going to get inside. No spell or amount of brute force was going to get that door opened, not when Lord Voldemort had closed it. He turned around, his heart beating frantically in his chest and he met the amused red eyes of the Dark Lord.

Voldemort tilted his head to the side and gazed at Harry, a smile tugged at his lips.

"Harry," he greeted, the name rolling off his tongue with pleasure.

James and Lily had stopped trying to open the door and had rushed back to the window, trying with all their might to break the glass and get to Harry. The Death Eaters raised their wands, aiming at the window. A strange pulsating light covered the entire glass, protecting it, making it unbreakable. But it still allowed the two panicked parents to see through it and watch their worst nightmare come to life. Voldemort glanced over at the Potters and smirked at their frenzied attack. He stepped towards Harry and only then, did he notice the trembling woman, cowering in the corner. He looked down at her with distaste.

"A Mudblood, tailoring your clothes?" he asked. He clicked his tongue as he turned to look at Harry, "you know that's not acceptable."

His wand was pointed at the witch in the blink of an eye.

"Avada Kedevra!"

A blast of green hit the witch and the woman's scream echoed in the room, tearing into Harry, startling him. Harry watched, horrified as the elderly woman slumped to the ground, her glasses askew, eyes still open, the expression of fear forever imprinted in them.

Voldemort smiled at Harry and stepped towards him. At once, Harry stepped back.

"You stay away from him!" James' faint cry from behind the glass made Voldemort smile. He turned to look at him and his red eyes flashed in amusement. James pounded at the glass. He picked up a chair and hurled it at the window, but the glass stayed put, under the Death Eater's spell.

Voldemort turned his attention back to Harry, noticing how nervous Harry was, how his breathing was heavier and faster, like he had been running. He also picked up the scent of fear on him. Harry was afraid. It came as rather a surprise to the Dark Lord.

The nearer Voldemort approached, the further Harry backed away. Voldemort only smiled and continued, ignoring Harry's reaction and the muffled threats screamed at him from James behind the glass.

"I'm surprised at you, Harry," Voldemort said as he sauntered up to him, "you hear one story from a no good Death Eater and you run away?" he tutted at him, "I thought I had raised you better than that?"

Harry backed up against a wall. He stood there, his mouth dry and his voice caught somewhere in his chest.

"Well," Voldemort sighed, "you've had your fun at rebellion, enough is enough." he beckoned him over, "we're going home."

Harry shook his head.

"I'm not going with you." he managed to force the words out of his tightly coiled throat.

The Dark Lord looked mildly impressed.

"Really?" he asked, "what are you going to do?"

Harry didn't reply, but planted his feet firmly to the ground. Voldemort glanced at the still screaming James and Lily, picking up the faint sound of a child's loud cries coming from somewhere in the next room.

"You know I don't have a problem with killing them," he gestured to the window, "the only reason I haven't yet, is because I thought it would be amusing to see their reaction when you leave with me."

Harry's panicked gaze darted to his parents, meeting both James and Lily's wide, horror-stricken eyes. He looked back at Voldemort, angrily.

"That's all you can do!" he hissed at him, "kill people, force others to obey you?" he shook his head. "Go ahead! I'd rather die than go anywhere with you!"

Voldemort looked somewhat amused.

"Ten days away from home and you're ready to kill yourself." he chuckled quietly.

"It's not my home," Harry said, "it was never my home."

Voldemort's amusement quickly melted. His eyes flashed and Harry felt his scar throb fiercely.

"Your home is where you've been for the last nine years." he pointed out. "It's where you belong."

"You took me from my home," Harry said, feeling his eyes burn suddenly. "You lied to me." he accused in a chocked voice.

Voldemort walked closer, only coming to stop when he was towering over the boy. James and Lily's cries increased in vigour, as did their relentless attack on the window. But Voldemort simply ignored them. He pressed one hand against the wall, next to Harry's head and leaned in to speak to him.

"Yes, I lied to you. I did what I had to." he said in a low voice, "I did what I needed to to gain your trust and loyalty." he straightened up, smirking, "and it worked. You're committed to me. Even now, while you seemingly left me, you are still loyal to me."

"I'm not!" Harry objected.

"Yes, you are, Harry." Voldemort smiled, "if you weren't, I would've had the Order or the Ministry come knocking at my door by now." he smirked at Harry's discomfort. "It's been ten days and you haven't disclosed any of my secrets."

"I don't want anything to do with you," Harry replied, "that includes talking about you."

Voldemort shook his head.

"Don't lie, Harry. You know why you've not said a word to anyone." his eyes glittered like rubies, "you're my son and a son won't do anything to harm his father."

Harry shook his head.

"You're not my father."

Red eyes flashed and Harry gasped, grabbing his forehead, his scar ached in agony. It dulled after a moment and shakily, Harry looked up to see Voldemort's angered expression.

"You're forgetting your manners, Harry," he warned dangerously, "I've tolerated a lot from you, but _this_ I won't tolerate!"

Harry took in deep breaths, his scar burning with ferocity.

"It's the truth," Harry panted, "my father is the one who never used me, who never hurt me."

Voldemort's gaze went to James Potter, who was still trying to get into the room, alternating between trying to break the window and the door.

"Him?" he asked derisively, "you think he loves you?" he asked.

"I know he does." Harry declared.

"For how long?" Voldemort asked. "He may claim to love you now, but will he still love you once he finds out what you've done? What you've become?"

Harry stilled, fear filled his eyes and Voldemort smiled at the sight of it.

"He...he won't care." Harry weakly argued.

"Is that why you've told him about that night?" Voldemort asked. "You did tell him and your dear mudblood mother about the Death Eater you killed? Didn't you?"

Harry didn't answer. His heart jolted with fear that his parents might have heard Voldemort. He looked to them but both were so worked up, trying to smash their way in, the loud bangs and thuds against the door and window and Damien's loud panicked crying must be drowning out all of his and Voldemort's conversation.

"Why would you keep it a secret?" Voldemort asked. He smirked coldly at the boy. "Is it because you know what they would do to you, if they found out?" he asked.

Harry couldn't answer. He tried, willed his mouth to open and say something, anything! But he couldn't.

"You think they will accept you after they learn what you did?" Voldemort asked. He leaned in closer, "you know they won't, Harry. You know what they'll do." he whispered, "that's why you haven't told them yet. You know they will disown you. They don't want a child with darkness inside him. They are followers of the light. Once they see who you really are, what you have done, they will turn on you."

Harry shook his head, but his fear had stolen his voice. He stared at Voldemort, wanting desperately not to believe him, to forget what his mum had said only days ago, '_no mercy for those that take a life!'_

"No." he whispered.

"They will hate you," Voldemort continued, whispering to him, "once they learn you've killed, spilt the blood of a human, they will condemn you."

"No," Harry shook his head, pleading, "no, they won't."

Voldemort fell quiet and for a moment, he just stared at Harry.

"I came with the intention of taking you back with me." Voldemort said, "no matter what happened, no matter how many I had to kill, you were coming back with me today." he pulled back, staring hard at the boy, "but now, now I'll wait. _You_ will come back to me yourself!" he hissed, eyes burning, "and you will _beg_ me to take away your memories. Once your dear _loving_ parents turn on you, and trust me Harry, they will, once you realise that you don't fit in, that you don't belong anywhere, except by my side, you will come home _yourself!_"

Harry glared at him, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Voldemort smirked, his gaze taking in every detail of the boy, before he straightened up.

"Don't take too long." he told him.

He reached out, to caress Harry's dark locks but stopped when Harry purposefully moved his head to the side, jaw clenched and eyes shut tight. Voldemort smirked, his hand halted mid action. He dropped his hand away and in a flash, he and his Death Eaters were gone. The door unlocked instantly. Harry opened his eyes when he felt the ache in his scar disappear completely.

The door was pushed open and James and Lily darted inside.

"Harry! Harry, are you okay?" James ran to him, engulfing the boy in a crushing embrace.

Harry clung to James, his knees were threatening to give out under him, his breathing harsh and strained as he felt his eyes water suddenly. Lily was hugging him too, crying soundlessly.

"You're okay, thank God! You're okay!" she sobbed.

But Harry could barely hear her, the sound of his own blood roared in his ears. The challenge his former father left him, echoed in his mind.

'_You will come back to me yourself!..._

_you will beg me to take away your memories..._

_your dear loving parents will turn on you..._

_you don't fit in this world..._

_you don't belong anywhere...except by my side..._

_you will come home yourself!'_

xxx


	5. Casual Chats

**Disclaimer** I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

**Chapter Five**

The double doors opened and two Aurors frantically made their way down the narrow corridor. They spotted the very people they were looking for. One was nervously pacing outside a door while the other was seated on the bench, holding their youngest son in her arms.

"James! Lily!" Sirius called out, practically running down the length of the corridor.

James stopped mid-pace and turned around, troubled eyes softening at the sight of his friends. Remus and Sirius stopped before him. Lily was still sitting on the bench, Damien's sleeping form curled in her lap. Remus hurried to sit next to her, embracing her quickly.

"We just heard," Sirius explained, ashen faced, "is it true? Did...did _he_ really come to Diagon Alley?"

James could only nod, he didn't have the stomach to speak, not yet anyway.

"Merlin!" Sirius breathed, "what happened? What-what did he do?"

James swallowed painfully, his mouth incredibly dry.

"Nothing," he croaked, "he...he didn't do anything, I mean...I don't think he did-" he turned to look at the door he had been pacing in front of, "the Healer hasn't come out yet. Harry...he looked fine, unhurt, physically I mean-"

"Start from the beginning, Prongs." Remus requested.

James took in a shaky sigh. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop the faint tremble shiver down his back at the recollection of what they'd been through, a mere two hours ago.

"We were at Madame Fiona's, having Harry measured for robes," he licked his dry lips, "Harry was in the fitting room and we were outside, watching him. I was messing around and Harry was...he was laughing," the memory of Harry's smile flashed in his mind, "it was the first time I saw Harry so happy and carefree." he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, "everything was going great and then, in the blink of an eye, there were Death Eaters everywhere."

Sirius and Remus tensed.

"They brought down the wards?" Sirius whispered, mostly to himself, "they must've had them worked out beforehand."

"How could they have known when we were coming?" Lily asked.

"Voldemort must have had his Death Eaters keeping watch, waiting for Harry to come out in the open." Remus suggested.

The thought made James' insides curl. Why couldn't that _bastard_ just leave Harry alone?

"Voldemort arrived with his Death Eaters?" Sirius asked.

James nodded, remembering that moment, when the Dark Lord apparated into the same room as Harry. James didn't know how he stayed sane through it all.

"He locked the door as soon as he arrived," James continued, eyes glazed as his mind raced back to that memory, "his men barred the window so we couldn't break past it." he shook his head, "Voldemort looked over at me. He met my eyes and he...he _smirked_." he looked up to meet Sirius' horrified gaze, "he smirked at me, like it was a _fucking_ joke that he had come to take my son away!" James' fists clenched into tight balls and he dropped his head. The anger pulsed through him, stealing his ability to talk momentarily.

Silence stretched between the friends, for several minutes, before Remus' soft voice broke it.

"So why didn't he?"

James looked up at him.

"What?"

"Take Harry away?" Remus asked. "What stopped him?"

James and Lily shared a look, neither of them knew what to say.

"I don't know," James admitted, "no one stopped him. He just...he just left."

"What?" Sirius came forward, blue eyes widened in shock. "He left? Without trying to take Harry with him?"

"It doesn't make sense, I know," James breathed heavily, "but that's what happened."

"We heard there was a fatality," Remus said, "we thought the worst." his voice dipped, betraying how worried he was.

"It was Madame Fiona," Lily said quietly, "he...Voldemort, he killed her, just because she was in the room with Harry."

Sirius rubbed at his head, letting out a frustrated breath.

"I...I don't get it," he looked back up at James, "why did he just leave? Why didn't he try to take Harry away or...you know...do something?" he grimaced, "I mean, don't get me wrong, I couldn't be more grateful that all of you are okay but...it doesn't make sense for Voldemort to go through all that trouble, breaking the wards, coming to Diagon Alley and then, what? Just talk to Harry and leave? What the hell is going on?"

James swallowed heavily. He shut his eyes, fighting the memory of how Voldemort had advanced on Harry and how his ten year old son backed away in terror, until there was nowhere left to go. His heart twisted again at the recollection of how Voldemort had leaned in, towering over Harry. He had said something to Harry, something that made the child pale to the hue of a ghost. James didn't hear what Voldemort had said, but he saw the effect it had on Harry. He saw the horror grow in the green eyes. Every desperate shake of Harry's head had felt like glass cutting into his heart. That bastard was threatening Harry with something, that much James knew for certain. It didn't take much imagination as to what the threats involved. If the despairing look Harry had thrown at him and Lily was anything to go by.

"Harry can explain it," Remus said, breaking James out of his thoughts, "he can tell what Voldemort said to him."

Next to Remus, Lily shuddered, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

"Harry's in shock." she said quietly, "whatever it was that _he_ said to Harry, it's left him petrified." she met Remus' sympathetic gaze, "that's why we brought him here."

"Don't worry, he'll be okay." Remus consoled.

The door to the examination room opened shortly after and a grey haired witch stepped out. She smiled as James hurried forward, Sirius behind him. Remus took Damien from Lily's lap so she too could step forward and speak to the Healer.

"Mr Potter?" the Healer enquired, looking at James.

"Yes," James replied, "how is he? Is Harry okay?"

The elderly Healer nodded.

"He's perfectly fine, there's nothing to worry about." she assured.

James and the rest visibly relaxed, drawing relieved breaths and muttering thanks under their breaths.

"I have given him a thorough check over. He wasn't pleased in the least, but I got through it all in the end." the Healer chuckled. "He is quite eager to leave and go home, which is more than understandable seeing what he's been through today." her demeanour turned solemn and James could see the pity in her eyes. "You can take him home, rest assured he is physically fit as a fiddle."

"Thank you, so much." Lily hurried past her, disappearing into the room behind the Healer, eager to see her son again. Sirius followed after her, as did Remus, with Damien still in his arms.

"Thank you." James made to move past her as well and join the rest of his family in the room, but the Healer stopped him.

"Mr Potter, there is one thing I would like to mention." her eyes grew shadowed and she drew closer to James. "During the examination, I noticed a strange scar on your son's forehead."

James frowned.

"Scar?"

The Healer nodded.

"A peculiar mark, if I may say so. It's shaped like a bolt of lightening."

James felt a cold shiver creep down his spine.

"Do you know what could have caused it?" he asked.

The Healer didn't answer right away. She sighed before meeting James' gaze.

"I hope that I am mistaken, but it looks to me like a curse scar."

James had been hoping against hope she wouldn't say that.

"Can it be anything else?" he asked.

"It may just be a scar, left behind by a strange accident," she replied, but her tone told James how unlikely a case that could be, "however, I do think it would be in your best interest to have this mark checked out. There are some tests we can do, that can in some cases, determine when and how the scar came to be. They are extensive and have to be carried out privately-"

"That's not a problem," James interrupted, "what I'm more concerned with is, how this is going to affect my son's health?"

"The tests are painless, there may be a little discomfort but it's very mild." the Healer replied, "of course that will only be the case, if what he has is in fact a curse scar." she looked at James, "has he ever reacted to the scar?"

"What do you mean?" James asked.

"Have you ever seen him touch the scar?" she asked, "perhaps he seems, at times, distracted or discomfited? Have you seen him rub at his forehead or complain that he has a headache often?"

James shook his head.

"No, I can't say that I have."

The Healer smiled and nodded her head.

"Good, that's very good. It most likely isn't a curse scar then." she nodded, "curse scars often act up from time to time and sometimes even leave behind phantom pains." she smiled warmly. "It's probably just a nasty cut from when he was younger."

James nodded slowly, but his insides were twisting at her words, _'a nasty cut from when he was younger.'_

He found himself wondering, not for the first time, just what the hell had Voldemort done to his son?

xxx

Harry was quiet on his way back home from the hospital. He was still quiet when they got to Godric's Hollow. When Lily asked him what he wanted for dinner, Harry just shrugged. When James tried talking to him, Harry stubbornly stayed silent, acting like he couldn't hear him. After James fell quiet too, getting no response from him, Harry got up and went upstairs.

He passed his bedroom and headed for the bathroom. Once he had locked the door, Harry calmly went to kneel next to the toilet, before he was violently sick. Even after his breakfast and lunch came back up, he continued dry heaving, trembling from head to foot. His stomach and sides began to ache but Harry couldn't stop. Breathing became difficult, but Harry still didn't stop. His vision was blurred by tears, traitorous and painful, but he still couldn't make himself stop. It was as if his body had a mind of it's own and it wasn't going to stop until Harry retched out his insides.

Knocks hit the door behind him and James' voice reached Harry's ears, faint against the sound of his hurling. His dad was calling out to him, but Harry couldn't answer back, not even to tell him to go away.

A muttered spell and the door opened. Footsteps hurried behind Harry. Strong hands curled around his arms and he was pulled away from the porcelain rim of the toilet and held in a warm embrace. Harry's head rested against a chest and the scent of fresh grass and broomsticks, that Harry had begun to associate with James, flooded his senses. It was comforting; the warmth, the scent, the gentle words that made no sense at the moment but worked to calm his frantically beating heart.

It was only when Harry calmed down a little, that he realised he was crying. It shocked him, that the ragged breathing he could hear echo in the bathroom was his own. His face was wet with perspiration and tears alike and every breath that rattled into his aching lungs was gasped out in the form of a sob.

"It's okay, it's okay, Harry," James' voice soothed, "I've got you, you're safe."

Harry forced himself to stop, forced back the tears and the sobs. After a futile thirty seconds, he began to gain some control back and he managed to calm down completely. But James still sat with Harry in his arms, in the middle of the bathroom floor, whispering encouragements. It must have been a few minutes before Harry pushed against him, gently but with enough force to pry himself out of his dad's protective grip. James let him go, allowing the ten year old to sit up, sniffing and wiping at his face with the back of his sleeve.

Without a word, James conjured a warm wet towel. He moved to clean Harry's face but the boy was quick to reach out and take the towel from him, choosing to do it himself. James didn't say anything but stood up, guiding Harry to his feet too. He led Harry out of the bathroom and back to his room.

Sitting down on the bed, James reached out to caress Harry's hair, making him look up to meet his gaze.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly.

Harry shook his head.

"It'll make you feel better."

"It won't." Harry croaked.

"You can't keep your feelings bottled up, Harry." James said, "what happened today..." he struggled to keep calm, "it's bound to be upsetting." he reached out and gently rubbed Harry's shoulder, "don't shut me and your mum out. Talk to us, tell us what you're going through."

Harry stayed quiet. His dad didn't know what he was asking. How could he tell his dad what he was going through? How could his dad understand how scared he felt, how utterly terrified he was that he would lose his new found family, if and when, they found out what he had done? How could he tell his dad what Voldemort had challenged? No, he couldn't tell him anything. His dad just wouldn't understand.

"What did Voldemort say to you?" James asked.

Harry just shook his head, eyes clenching against the burn in his eyes.

"Harry, _please_," James' quiet, desperate plead made Harry open his eyes, "let me in, please? Don't treat me like a stranger. You can pretend all you want with all the Healers in the world, but I'm your dad. I can tell you're hurting and it's killing me that you won't let me help."

"You can't help."

"How do you know?" James asked, "you've not even tried."

"I don't need to try," Harry replied, "I know what'll happen if I tell you."

"What, Harry? What will happen?"

Harry swallowed.

"You'll hate me." he whispered.

James' eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

"Harry," he held onto the boy by the shoulders, "there is nothing, _nothing_ you can tell me that will make me hate you. It's physically impossible for any father to hate his son." he met the hesitant gaze and held onto it. "Let alone a father who just got his son back after nine years," he touched Harry's cheek.

But Harry knew, he knew his dad would hate him. He couldn't love someone who was tainted with darkness. What was it Voldemort had said? They were followers of the Light. They wouldn't love him when they found out what he was. They would _turn_ on him. It was that, that _word_ which had turned his insides to ice. It was the thought of his parents _turning_ on him, making his nightmares come alive, that had made him retch and retch and not stop. His mum and dad had never hurt him, had never raised hand nor wand at him, but that didn't mean they wouldn't. If they found out he was a murderer, if they found out he was Voldemort's assassin, trained to kill at the Dark Lord's command, what would they do to him?

"Harry?"

At James' prompt, Harry looked up, snapping out of his dreadful reverie. He swallowed again, his mouth horribly dry.

"What did Voldemort say to you?" James asked.

Harry took in a shaky breath and dropped his gaze.

"He was threatening me," he opted for half truths, too tired to make up elaborate lies, "he told me I had to leave with him or he would..." he glanced up at James before dropping his gaze again, "he would...hurt my family."

James nodded. He already knew that, he had seen it in Harry's eyes, when he had looked over at them, trapped in the room with Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

"What else?" he asked.

Harry shook his head.

"He was just tying to scare me."

"How?" James pushed.

But Harry only gave a one shouldered shrug.

"Harry?"

"Don't make me talk about it," Harry said suddenly, "I don't want to even think about it."

"I know that you don't," James said gently, "but I need to understand one thing," he took in a breath, "why did Voldemort just leave? Why didn't he force you to go with him?"

Harry looked up at him.

"What does that matter?" he asked with a frown.

"It matters, because it's a very unusual thing for him to do." James explained, "he went through a lot of planning, brought down the wards, apparated into the shop but he didn't take you away? It doesn't make sense."

Harry's eyes sharpened suddenly and his mouth twisted into a snarl.

"_That's_ what you're bothered about?" he asked, "why didn't he take me away? Did you _want_ him to take me away?"

"No, of course not." James replied.

"Then why are you bothered that he didn't?"

"Harry," James reached out and held onto him by the shoulders again, "calm down, you've misunderstood me."

But Harry pushed James' hands away and stood up.

"No," he spoke quietly, "no I've understood you perfectly." his green eyes were suddenly cold as he stared at James, "I thought you were upset because you came close to losing me again." his face betrayed his pain, "but you were only concerned with why Voldemort left _without_ me."

"Harry," James started but Harry was already walking to the door. "Harry! Harry, wait."

James hurried after him, but Harry had already crossed the hallway and disappeared into the bathroom again, locking the door behind him once more.

xxx

Lily was the one who finally got Harry out of the bathroom. James had tried, for almost an hour, pleading to Harry outside the door, but the boy refused to listen to him. James could have easily unlocked the door with a spell, like he had done earlier, but the purpose wasn't opening the door. It was getting Harry to talk.

When Lily finally managed to get Harry to come out, he was quiet and stony faced, refusing to even look at James.

"I'm sorry," James pleaded, "I didn't mean to upset you." he reached out but Harry moved back, away from his touch. The simple action broke James' heart. "Harry?"

"Just give him some space," Lily whispered, as Harry walked to his room, "let me talk to him."

Lily hurried behind Harry and disappeared into the room. James waited in the hallway, refusing to move until he made peace with Harry. That was, until a sleepy eyed Damien climbed up the stairs. James busied himself with Damien, changing his clothes and getting him into bed. By the time he was done, Lily had finished with Harry.

"What did you say to him?" she asked, "he's really mad at you."

"It's a misunderstanding." James explained.

"Well, he's a bit calmer now." Lily nudged him towards Harry's door, "go make peace."

James knocked once on Harry's door and pushed the door open. Harry was sitting up in bed, but didn't look sleepy in the least. In fact, he looked just as angry and annoyed as before. James stayed next to the door.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"It's your house." Harry replied.

_'Ouch!'_ James mentally winced, _'that one hurt!'_

He walked inside and came to sit on the bed, in front of the sulking child.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, "I must have said it differently to what was in my head, because I never meant for you to get upset." he explained. "I was just curious as to why Voldemort left without abducting you-"

"Then you'll have to ask _him!_"

"Harry," James placated, "I know why you're upset," he said quietly, "but surely you know how relieved I am that you're still here, safe at home with me and not in Voldemort's clutches again."

Harry looked over at him then, green eyes full with uncertainty.

"Sure didn't sound like it."

"Then I apologise." James said, "truth is, when I saw Voldemort apparate into that room and I realised I couldn't get you out, I didn't get upset." his hazel eyes glistened, "upset isn't a strong enough word to describe what I felt."

Harry shifted, turning around to face James now.

"Truth is, I don't even know how I've survived after seeing him with you." James admitted, "when I saw him approaching you, the way he stood over you and the way he was leaning in, threatening you," James shook his head, "my heart should have stopped then and there."

Harry's expression changed and he stared at James with wide eyes.

"I need you to understand," James continued, "the only thing that I care about, is making sure you are as far away as possible from that _monster!_" he reached forward and gently touched Harry's hand, "the only reason I asked why he left without you, was to understand what he's planning. I could never want him anywhere near you, let alone you going with him." he shook his head, eyes burning furiously, "the only way Voldemort can take you away, is over my dead body."

Harry closed his hand over James', making him stop midway. With a lump in the back of his throat, Harry shook his head at him.

"Don't say that," he whispered, "never say that again."

James suddenly realised all he had done was further upset his child. He mentally kicked himself. Why was he so horrible at this? Why was he only capable of either hurting Harry or making him angry.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." James moved closer but Harry didn't make any move or gesture that he wanted James to comfort him, so James sat awkwardly beside him. After a tense few minutes, James tried his luck. "Am I forgiven?"

Harry looked up at him before nodding.

"Yeah, just...just don't talk, at all," he gave him a look, "you're really bad at it."

James smiled.

"Can I mime?" he asked.

Harry shook his head.

"Write stuff down?"

Harry shook his head again.

"Communicate telepathically?"

A half smile lifted the corner of Harry's mouth.

"Only if it's just with me."

"Oh ho!" James chuckled, "a special connection with my son? I like it."

"Actually forget it, you'll just scramble my thoughts by interrupting all the time." Harry said with a smirk.

"Sure I will," James played along, "that's what I do best."

"What, scramble thoughts or interrupt?" Harry asked.

"Both," James winked, "I do both with the utmost accuracy."

Harry chuckled and shook his head at James.

There was a knock at the door and Lily peeked her head inside.

"Sorry," she said, "James, there's a firecall for you."

James got up, reluctantly from Harry's side.

"I'll be just a minute."

Lily took the spot James vacated and fussed over Harry, prompting him to lie down so she could tuck him in properly. James smiled at the sight, noting how Harry seemed less annoyed at her and he even caught the slight flutter of a smile cross Harry's face when Lily leaned over and kissed his forehead.

It was then, in that split moment when Lily pushed away the dark bangs to plant her kiss, that James caught sight of it, the jagged, pinkish scar on Harry's forehead.

_'I noticed a strange scar on your son's forehead...a peculiar mark, if I may say so. It's shaped like a bolt of lightening.'_

The Healer's words came back to James and he stood, rooted to the spot. He only caught a fleeting glance but it was enough to confirm one thing; it was undeniably a curse scar.

xxx

James walked into his living room and spotted the head in the fireplace.

"Kingsley?" James asked, recognising his fellow Auror and Order member,

"James, how are you?" Kingsley's booming voice filled the living room, while his head sat in the green flames of the fireplace. "How's Harry?"

"He's shaken up," James replied, coming to sit on the rug, in front of the fireplace, "I caught him in the bathroom, being sick earlier."

"He witnessed a murder," Kingsley said, "it's not surprising he was sick."

James fought to keep his grimace away. He could still see the lifeless eyes of the shop owner in his mind's eye. He shook himself free of that image.

"Why are you calling? Was it just to check on us?" James knew enough about Kingsley Shacklebolt, to know he wasn't one to make social calls, not late in the evening in any case.

"I wanted to warn you," Kingsley started, "the Minister is formally summoning you and Harry tomorrow."

"What for?" James asked.

"In part for what happened today. You two are witnesses for what happened in Diagon Alley." Kingsley replied, "and the other part is to question Harry about Voldemort."

"What!" James hissed, "is he out of his mind? My son almost got attacked by Voldemort today and he expects Harry to go in tomorrow and start giving out information?"

"The Minister is panicking." Kingsley admitted. "He has a lot to answer for, regarding the attack on Diagon Alley. He wants to release good news soon and getting vital information out of Harry is his only way to do so."

James shook his head.

"Well, tough!" he said, "Harry's not going anywhere tomorrow. He's had a traumatic day and tomorrow, he's going to rest and recover."

"You don't have a choice." Kingsley grimaced. "The summons has already been delivered. You will receive it soon."

James cursed, running a hand through his hair.

"Kingsley, I don't know if I can put Harry through this." he confessed.

"You don't have a choice." Kingsley replied.

xxx

The trip to the Ministry of Magic was a tense one. Sirius had come with James and Harry, leaving Lily to look after Damien at home. Harry was strangely passive about coming to the Ministry. He didn't say a word when the owl delivered the summons this morning. Neither did he speak when James and Lily comforted him about it. He quietly finished his breakfast and then slipped upstairs to change. He didn't put up a fight or insist he wasn't going to go, and that's what bothered James.

"Just be thankful," Sirius whispered to him, as Harry surveyed the interior of the main atrium of the Ministry, "would you prefer bringing him here kicking and screaming?"

"No," James hissed back, "of course not. But I would like _some_ sort of a reaction."

They used the elevators to go to the Minister's private chambers, where the summons had instructed them. As Harry stepped out, he observed the impressive chamber with quiet eyes. There were portraits of past Ministers fixed around the walls, encased in gold plated frames. There was an impressive chandelier that hung so low from the dome ceiling, Harry was sure his dad could touch it, should he jump. Double doors opened to take them into a smaller, much more modest looking room, with two sofas and more portraits on the creamy white walls. A table was propped between the adjacent sofas, laden with pastries and cakes and a silver tray with tea cups and a steaming kettle.

Sirius gave a low whistle in appreciation.

The door on the far side of the room opened and the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, walked into the room, in all his pompous glory. He smiled widely at James and Sirius, before his small eyes landed on the boy standing between them.

"Good afternoon, Auror Potter, Auror Black," he greeted.

"Good afternoon, Minister." both men replied.

Fudge looked at Harry, as he approached them.

"And you must be Harry Potter," he held out a hand, "very pleased to finally meet you, my boy."

Harry looked down at the hand. He hadn't heard much about Minister Fudge from his time with Voldemort. The general idea he had got from Voldemort was that the Minister was an idiot. Now that he met him, Harry agreed whole heartedly.

But the man was holding out his hand and his dad was standing next to him, waiting for Harry to react. If he didn't shake the Minister's hand, it would embarrass his dad. Pulling all of his willpower together, Harry reached out and took the Minister's hand. He shook it, mentally frowning at the wide, terribly idiotic smile the man now wore. Harry was quick to let go of his hand.

"Come, take a seat." Fudge gestured to the sofas.

James, Harry and Sirius sat down on one, while the Minister sat down on the other, facing them.

"I wish we were meeting under better circumstances." the Minister started, "the incident yesterday at Diagon Alley," he shook his head gravely, "very unfortunate."

Harry's instant dislike of the man spiked to new levels.

"To be completely honest," James started, "I would have preferred to have a few days to recover from yesterday's ordeal before coming in for a formal meeting."

"It's not a formal meeting," Fudge dismissed, "your statements will be taken in due course. I only wanted to take this opportunity to meet with you and introduce myself to young Harry here."

"That's very nice of you," Harry suddenly spoke, "I always thought the Minister for Magic would be much to busy to meet and greet every wizard," his eyes gleamed, "but I guess I was wrong."

If Minister Fudge picked up the tone, he didn't show it. He simply smiled and gestured to the table between them.

"Help yourself, don't be shy."

Harry gave a withering look at the treats and kept his hands firmly in his laps. James and Sirius followed his example.

A knock on the door and Sturgis Podmore entered. He greeted the Minister before nodding to his fellow colleagues and secret Order members. His gaze settled on Harry and he stared at him, seemingly taking in everything he could of the child.

"Ah, Auror Podmore," Fudge stood up, "just on time." he looked over at Harry, still with that wide smile. "Harry, if you could go with Auror Podmore into the next room."

"Wait, what?" James held up a hand, tense all of a sudden. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, James," the Minister chose his first name, in an effort to show they were on 'friendly' terms. "I wish to speak to you and Auror Black and I think it would be a good use of the time to have Harry speak with Podmore, just a quick, very informal, chat."

James shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Minister, but Harry's not talking to anyone without my supervision."

For the first time that day, Minister Fudge's smile weakened.

"What is it you are trying to imply, Auror Potter?" he asked. "Do you think I would _interrogate_ a child that is only ten years of age?"

Harry looked up to his dad's, rapidly turning pink, face.

"Of course not-"

"Because you are aware that if a minor is held accountable for a crime, only _then_ he or she is interrogated and it is done under the parent or guardian's supervision." the Minister went on, "Harry is only going to have a quick chat with Podmore, what's the problem?"

"There's no problem," James replied, "it's just-"

"It's okay, dad," Harry interrupted, "I don't mind." he looked back at the door, intently studying the stoic looking Auror.

"But _I_ mind," James returned. "I don't want you dealing with anything that's even _remotely_ stressful."

"It's just as well then, that I don't scare easy." Harry replied. He turned to look at the Minister who beamed at him.

"That a boy!" he chuckled. "Podmore." he gestured and the Auror stepped into the room.

James and Sirius stood up as Harry got up. They watched as Harry walked across to meet the Auror and walked out with him, not looking back at his worried looking dad and godfather.

xxx

It was roughly twenty minutes later, when the door opened and Harry walked out of the room, Sturgis followed behind him. James and Sirius had long departed from the Minister's private chambers and were waiting impatiently for Harry outside. As soon as James met Harry's gaze, he felt a strong sense of relief wash through him. Harry looked fine, calm and at ease, not like he had been struggling with difficult or painful questions. James looked up to smile at Sturgis. The man was a fellow Auror and was in the Order, James had been hoping he would treat Harry well and it seemed he had. But when he met the other Auror's gaze, he saw the flicker of annoyance lingering in his eyes. The tight grimace on his lips told James the other man was agitated. Once their eyes met, James knew for certain, _something_ had happened.

"Alright, Harry?" Sirius asked, coming forward.

"Yeah," Harry shrugged, "like they said, just a chat." he turned back to look at Sturgis with an amused glint in his emerald green eyes.

Sturgis Podmore nodded at him, but it was not in agreement, more like the slow half nod one gives their adversary, after admitting they've lost the upper hand. It was full of a silent promise, one that James could read clearly, _'This isn't over!'_

James walked forward, one hand on Harry's shoulder. He smiled when his son turned his head up to look at him.

"Shall we go home?" he asked.

Harry nodded.

"We have to stop for ice cream first," Sirius began leading Harry towards the elevators, "what'd you say, Harry? Ice cream or milkshakes?"

James let the two head in front of him as he trailed slowly behind. He paused before Sturgis.

"Sturgis-"

But the man shook his head at him, eyes flashing at him not to speak. He tilted his head in the direction of Fudge's chamber. Silently he pressed something round and cold into James' palm. Stunned, James looked down to see a glass orb in his grip. He looked back up at Sturgis.

Sturgis only nodded at him before disappearing behind the door again.

xxx

Later that night, once Lily, Damien and Harry were all asleep, James crept into the kitchen and settled himself in one corner of the kitchen. He held the orb in his hands and let out an anxious breath. He knew what it was he was holding. It was the recording of Harry's _chat_ with Sturgis. The question was, why did Sturgis slip him the orb? What was it that he wanted James to see? That was what was making James' heart beat twice as hard. There was only one way to find out.

He took in a breath and flicked the tiny button at the bottom of the orb and watched as the mist in the orb cleared and James saw Sturgis and Harry seated at a table, one that held no treats or refreshments.

"Alright, Mr Potter," Sturgis started, shifting to sit comfortably in his chair, "My name is Sturgis Podmore. The reason why we're having this little chat is simply to get your version of the events that took place yesterday at Diagon Alley."

James' eyes widened and he spluttered a little. The lying bastard! Fudge had said this wasn't his formal meeting.

But he noted, Harry didn't look the least bit surprised.

"What happened to _just a chat?_" he asked.

"The Minister doesn't make much of a distinction between a meeting and a chat." Sturgis replied.

Harry, to James' immense surprise, smiled.

"Or perhaps the Minister wanted me to have this meeting while my dad wasn't in the same room?"

"Why would you think that?" Sturgis asked.

"I think the Minister is under the impression I may not speak freely if my dad's in the same room. He fears I may hold back." Harry spoke with such casual ease it shocked James more than what he _actually_ said.

Sturgis paused and stared intently at Harry.

"Very good," he praised with a smile, "you're very astute for a ten year old."

Harry smiled, but this time, it wasn't as casual.

"Naivety will only get you killed." he stated.

James felt the hair at the back of his neck stand up. Was this really his young son speaking?

"Is that a lesson you've learnt from the Dark Lord?" Sturgis was quick to ask.

Harry's expression darkened, his bright green eyes sharpened and it was apparent how much he was fighting to keep his smile in place.

"It's a lesson I've learned the hard way." he answered.

Sturgis didn't say anything and opened a small, thin file. He held his quill in hand, ready.

"Could you go over the events that took place at Diagon Alley, yesterday, the sixth of January, of the year nineteen ninety-one?"

Harry visibly looked uncomfortable, as he shifted in his seat, eyes darkened and lips thinned to a line.

"I was at Madame Fiona's shop, being fitted for robes." Harry started, "out of nowhere, Death Eaters apparated around us, trapping me in the room."

Sturgis nodded.

"Did you recognise any of these Death Eaters?"

"No." Harry replied, prompting Sturgis to look up from his notes.

"No?" he put down his quill.

Harry glanced up at him.

"They wear masks."

Sturgis smiled.

"I understand, but I would have thought you might still have some idea as to who they are." When Harry didn't respond, Sturgis explained, "hair? height? distinctive accent?" he smirked, "and of course, there is the infamous only female Death Eater. You must know who she is?"

James saw the way Harry's jaw tensed but his eyes never wavered from Sturgis' face.

"You already know who she is," he challenged, "why are you asking me?"

"Consider it as a confirmation." Sturgis replied.

"Of what?" Harry asked, "her identity or my knowledge of Death Eaters?"

Sturgis chuckled.

"Can't get anything past you, can I?" he asked. He leaned over the table, staring at Harry with different eyes now. "You are not at all what you first appear."

"Oh?" Harry asked, "and what's that?"

Sturgis smiled but he didn't answer him. Instead he went on to his next question, reading from his file again.

"Is it true that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named apparated into the fitting room of Madame Fiona's Finest Robes?"

Harry dropped his gaze to the table.

"Yes." he replied quietly.

"And is it also true that he used the Killing curse on Madame Fiona Waterson?"

James watched as Harry nodded before a quiet, 'Yes' was uttered.

"Did this happen in front of you?" Sturgis asked.

"Yes."

"How did it make you feel?"

Harry snapped his head up to stare at him.

"What?"

"How did it make you feel? Watching a murder take place before your eyes, how did it make you feel?" Sturgis asked.

"What kind of a question is that?" Harry asked.

"A rather simple one." Sturgis replied.

"How do you _think_ it made me feel?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, Mr Potter, that's why I'm asking."

Harry was tensing up; his shoulders had lifted, his hands were balled into fists and James could see the green eyes narrowed in anger.

"It was horrible!" Harry snapped, "okay? It was...disturbing." he shrugged his shoulders in annoyance, "I don't know what else to say! It was horrifying."

"But not scary?" Sturgis confirmed.

"What?" Harry was confused.

"You see, other ten year old's would reply that they were scared, utterly terrified even, if they were to witness a murder in cold blood." Sturgis pointed at Harry with the feathery tip of his quill, "but not you. You were disturbed and horrified, but you didn't fear for your life? Weren't you afraid you might be next?"

James knew what Sturgis was doing, and it disgusted him that it was _his_ ten year old son on the receiving end of such a tactic.

"Of course I was," Harry replied, "it goes without saying."

"No, I don't think it does." Sturgis leaned back in his chair, the quill in his hand but no longer writing. "You see, Mr Potter, other ten year old's wouldn't be able to handle the mere presence of You-Know-Who. In actual fact, very few adults could, for that matter. But you," he pointed at Harry again, smiling, "you are the boy that lived with You-Know-Who, for nine long years. It's different for you to be in the same room as him, isn't it?" he leaned forward again, eyes intently trained on the boy, "that's why you didn't get scared. You didn't fear for your life, because you must have known he wasn't there to hurt you. So, why did he come there?"

"How should I know?" Harry asked, his voice trembled with anger, "you should go ask him!"

Sturgis smiled.

"If I ever meet him, face to face, I'll be sure to ask. Now," he turned the page of his file, "You-Know-Who apparated into the premises at exactly twenty-six minutes past three in the afternoon." he read from the file, "and he didn't leave until thirty minutes past three." he looked up at Harry, "four minutes he was inside the room with you," he closed the file over, "what did he talk about?"

"The weather," Harry replied, "take a wild guess what his topics of discussion could have been about."

"Four minutes may not seem very long, but when it comes to talking, a lot can be said in four minutes." Sturgis tilted his head to the side, studying Harry closely. "What did he say?"

Harry looked like he wasn't going to answer, but then he suddenly sighed and collapsed back in his seat, looking exhausted.

"Look, he did what you already know," Harry said quietly, "he threatened me, tried to take me away, back with him."

"So what stopped him?" Sturgis asked.

James held the orb closer, waiting for Harry's answer.

"I don't know," Harry shook his head, "one minute he was talking to me, telling me what he was going to do if I didn't go with him and the next, he just left, disapparated on the spot."

"Really?" Sturgis asked.

Harry shrugged.

"I'm telling you what happened," he said, "I don't understand it any better than you do."

"So for four long minutes, all he did was threaten you and tell you what he'll do if you don't leave with him?" Sturgis asked. "Those must have been some threats if they took four minutes to explain."

Harry leaned forward in his chair, looking distressed.

"You have no idea," he said, "I couldn't repeat them, even if I tried."

"Do you know what I really can't understand?" Sturgis asked, "why You-Know-Who would give you the option of leaving with him? Why didn't he just grab you and apparate away?"

Harry looked thrown by the question. He shook his head.

"I don't know," he urged, "I don't understand it either."

"No I think you understand it perfectly," Sturgis replied, "You-Know-Who could have easily abducted you but he didn't. He didn't force you to leave with him. He arrived and killed a witch in cold blood but yet, didn't lay a finger on you. Why?" he tilted his head to the side in question, "what was it that he said to you that took four long minutes? And according to the preliminary reports made by your parents at St Mungos, you were talking with You-Know-Who, answering him back." Sturgis lay down the quill and placed both hands on top of the table. "So you see, Mr Potter," he leaned in, "I think you're lying. You know perfectly why You-Know-Who didn't take you away with him and you know more about him and his Death Eaters than you're letting on."

The expression on Harry slipped away; the lines on his brow, the glistening eyes, it all just melted. Harry took one long look at the Auror, before he leaned back, suddenly at ease. He regarded Sturgis with sharp eyes and a faint smirk lit the corners of his mouth.

"Well, if I am lying," Harry said quietly, "you'll never know."

Sturgis fell quiet and just stared at the ten year old.

"Now, I think we've had enough of a _chat_ for today," Harry stood up, "I want to go home."

James watched as the orb dulled and clouded back to a misty white, signalling the end of the recording. He pulled his hand away but stayed put for a few minutes, just sitting in the corner, his heart thumping horribly fast in his chest.

Harry's clear defiance scared him. It downright terrified him. And the way he spoke with Sturgis, no ten year old child should know how to speak like that.

One thing was now certain. James was going to have to find out exactly what went on in the that room between Harry and Voldemort.

xxx


	6. Birthday Surprises

**Disclaimer** I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

**Chapter Six**

"Here, have some more bacon."

"Mum, it's okay-"

"Can I have more juice?"

"Hold on, Damy," Lily flashed a smile as she scooped a few more rashers onto Harry's plate, "just give me a sec."

Damien held up his glass.

"Juice, juice, juice!" he chanted.

"Hold on," Lily took the glass from him and picked up the jug, filling it with more orange juice, "there, now don't fill up on just juice. I want that plate cleaned, you hear?" she said as she passed the glass back to Damien.

James sat back and watched as his family had breakfast. A scene that was simple, even a joyous moment. But today, James felt a cold knot of anxiety tighten in his stomach, as he watched his ten year old sit at the table, eating and smiling and nodding at Lily's antics. It wasn't that Harry's expressions were fake or even forced. He looked genuinely happy, grinning at Damien and obediently working through the generous breakfast Lily had piled onto his plate. But it was the memory of the same boy, sitting across from an Auror and smirking at him, blatantly defying his questions that had James' insides squirming.

He put down his mug and paper, giving up his charade of reading. He got to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Lily asked, frowning.

"I need to go into work," James said, noting the way Harry's face fell at his words.

"Your holiday's don't finish until next week." Lily said with a furrowed brow.

"I know, I just need to hand something in." he avoided Harry's stare and turned to go upstairs, to change.

xxx

James didn't go to the Ministry. He was never planning on it. He travelled back to Diagon Alley, to the little robes shop, whose owner had been murdered in cold blood, only a few days ago.

James stepped through the security barriers and walked into Madame Fiona's Fantastic Robes. The only person there was a young wizard, undoubtedly the one to inherit the premises. The bespectacled youth hurried forward at the sight of James. Before he could rattle off his sales pitch, James held up a hand.

"It's okay, I'm not here to buy anything," he flashed his badge, "I'm Auror Potter. I'm here to ask you a few questions."

The youth stared at James with narrowed eyes.

"Auror Potter?" he repeated, "aren't you the one who was here when...when the attack happened?"

James nodded.

"Yes, I was."

The boy stood taller, adjusting his glasses on his thin nose.

"What could you possibly want to ask me? You were here when...when it...happened."

James' gaze went to the glass window, staring through it to the room where Voldemort had stood, tormenting his son. Where a poor woman had lost her life. He turned back to look at the boy.

"Did you work for Madame Fiona?"

The boy bristled, lips thinned to a line.

"Yes, she was my aunt."

James nodded.

"I'm sorry."

The boy gave a one shouldered shrug.

"There wasn't anything anyone could have done," he looked at James with an odd glint in his eye, "even if the shop was filled with Aurors, who can stop You-Know-Who, right?"

James sensed the accusation.

"Circumstances didn't permit me to act in time to protect anyone." he said regretfully, "but Voldemort-"

The boy hissed suddenly, eyes went wide and he held up both hands.

"Don't!" he urged, "please sir, refrain from saying _his_ name."

Lines creased James' forehead but he nodded anyway.

"Okay, You-Know-Who then," he relented, "he's not unstoppable. It's only a matter of time before we get him."

The boy smiled sadly.

"A little too late for some."

"Better late than never, right?" James asked in return. "What's your name?"

"Kirk Matthews." the boy replied.

"Mr Matthews, I wanted to ask you something about this premises. It may help me track down You-know-who."

Kirk nodded, eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Okay." he said uncertainly.

James looked around at the glass window again.

"What security measures do you have in place?"

Kirk shrugged.

"The usual; anti-theft, anti-apparation, a block on portkey-"

"What about orbs?" James interrupted, "do you have any that make recordings?"

The boy nodded.

"Yeah," he pointed to the silver-white orb fixed above the entrance door, "right there."

"How about in there?" James nodded at the glass window.

"In a fitting room?" Kirk asked, "erm, no sir. It would seem...unethical to have such devices in fitting rooms."

James nodded, mentally berating himself. He should have known that. Besides, life couldn't be that easy for him, could it?

"I need to find out what went on in there, during the attack," James explained, "is there anything you can think of that may help? Anything that may have recorded the attack?"

Kirk slowly shook his head.

"No, I'm sorry," he tilted his head in confusion, "pardon me sir, but, weren't you here during the attack? You must have seen what happened."

"I saw what happened," James admitted, "now I want to hear it."

xxx

"How do I do this again?"

Damien let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Like this, silly." he turned the remote around in Harry's hand, so it was the right way up.

Harry stared at the strange black square with knobs and buttons everywhere.

"How does this thing work?" he turned it around, examining it.

"I told you, batteries," Damien replied, "now hurry up! I wanna chase it."

"Right, right." Harry mumbled.

His thumb rested on top of one of the knobs. Gently he pushed it down and up. In front of the kneeling boys, the black and yellow model of a race car spurted forward and then came to a stop.

"You have to hold it down, like I showed you." Damien said.

"This is so complicated!" Harry huffed. "Why do you have muggle toys anyway?"

"Dudley has one," Damien said, watching the race car as it shot forward a few inches at a time, "I liked it, so mum got me one for my birthday."

"Dudley?" Harry asked, pressing down on all the buttons, making the toy car do all sorts of twists and jumps, completely unintentionally, "whose Dudley?"

"Our cousin." Damien replied.

"We have a cousin?" Harry asked, "and he's a _muggle?_"

Damien only nodded.

"You're doing it! You're doing it!" he got up, as the car bolted forward and tumbled down the stairs. "I'll get it!" Damien raced after it.

Harry was left sitting alone in the upper hallway. He put down the remote. Magic would be so much easier to make that stupid car move. He could hear his mum talking downstairs with a hyper Damien. He sat and waited, amusing himself with the conversation downstairs. It sounded like his mum wanted Damien to pick up his toys from the living room; Damien had other ideas.

"But I'm building a mountain of toys!" came his voice.

"Build it in your room, not in my living room." was Lily's answer.

"Mum!" Damien whined, "you don't understand. I need the blue carpet cause the mountain is in the middle of the ocean."

A pause before Lily sighed,

"That's an iceberg, Damy."

Harry chuckled.

_Tap tap tap_

Harry turned around at the faint sound.

_Tap tap tap_

It was coming from his room. Harry got up and went to his door, opening it quietly. He saw what the noise was at once.

An owl, black as coal with big green eyes was sitting outside his window. It's sharp beak tapped against the glass again.

_Tap tap tap_

Harry walked over and unlatched the window. No sooner had he opened it when the owl glided into his room, settling on his bed. Tied to it's talons was a thin, long parcel. Intrigued, Harry walked closer, sitting on his bed.

"Are you here for me?" he asked. He knew owls tracked the recipient, but he was lost as to who would send him anything. He glanced down at the parcel and saw his name on a white label, clear and neatly written. "It is for me." he said, more to himself.

He reached out and untied the parcel from around the bird's foot. The owl hooted in relief and flew out of the open window. Harry watched it go before turning back to the parcel. He picked it up, holding it in his hands. He read his name again on the label.

_Harry_

That's all it said.

Perplexed, Harry ran his fingers along the length of the parcel. A prickly feeling ran down his spine as he stared at it. Who could it be from?

Turning it over, Harry tugged at the green ribbon.

That was all he had to do. What he had considered to be green and silver wrapping was actually a howler, which uncurled itself from around the package and soared high into the air, floating in front of him.

_'You left behind a few belongings in your haste to leave. I'm sure you will need these, so I am taking the liberty of forwarding them to you. Use them well my son, and remember to bring them with you when you return home. I don't think your 'other' parents will be as considerate as I am, to send you your things.'_

Lord Voldemort's voice rang around Harry's room, chilling his very blood. Harry stared at the green envelope with silver markings, which he belatedly recognised as the Slytherin crest, until it faded and disappeared.

Harry looked down at the parcel, now a bare brown box, sitting on top of his bed. Harry wanted to pick it up and dump it out of his window. He didn't want to see what Voldemort had sent him. Come to think of it, how did Voldemort even manage to send him anything? He was sure Godric's Hollow was protected. The wards around the cottage wouldn't allow anything harmful to cross the barrier. He looked down at the box. So maybe what was inside wasn't harmful? Maybe that's why it could be delivered.

He picked up the box again. Despite his racing heart, he was curious as to what Voldemort had meant by his _belongings?_ He had left _everything_ behind. So what could be in this small, narrow box?

Harry lifted the lid. What he saw inside, took his breath away. With trembling fingers, he reached in and pulled out his wand. His eleven inches, holly and phoenix feather, wand. As soon as he touched it, he felt the rush of heat ran through him, warming him, calming his frantic heart, enveloping him in a sense of familiarity. He stared at it, studied it from all angles. It was really his wand, not touched, scratched or altered in anyway.

Harry was baffled. Why would Voldemort give him back his wand? If anything, Harry had thought his ex-father would have kept his wand away from him. Maybe even destroyed it? As a punishment for leaving him. But instead, Voldemort had sent the wand back, unmarked, untouched.

Harry put the wand down next to him and lifted out the only other thing in the box. He held up the black and silver ring, his breath choking in his throat. It was his ring, his private penesive. The one that freed him from nightmares. The first _gift_ his father had given him. Harry closed his fist around the ring. He was suddenly angry, so very, very angry. He was ridiculing him, Voldemort was ridiculing him by sending him the ring, reminding him of what he had done to him. The torture Voldemort had inflicted on him and the mockery of the penesive given to _help_ him years later.

With a snarl, Harry threw the ring. It smacked against the wall and skidded across the room, rolling under the wardrobe. Harry stayed on his bed, breathing hard, hands clenched into fists.

Voldemort was toying with him. He was trying to get to him, to get under his skin. Harry closed his eyes, sucking in a breath. He would be damned if he let Voldemort win.

xxx

It was almost dinner time when James came back to Godric's Hollow. He walked in, weary and tired. He had tried everything he could think of, but he had failed to find a way to learn what happened between Harry and Voldemort in Madame Fiona's shop.

He walked into the living room to find both his sons playing a game of exploding snap. Lily was in the kitchen, no doubt preparing dinner.

"Dad!" Damien bounded across the room and threw himself around James' legs.

James smiled and knelt down, hugging Damien to his chest.

"What's my little man doing?"

"Playin'" Damien replied, with a grin.

"Have you tidied your room?" James asked.

Damien paused, before he shook his head.

"Not yet."

James smiled at him.

"How about you go upstairs, tidy your room before dinner so your mum gets a big surprise?"

Damien wrinkled his nose.

"Do I have to?"

"No, but it would be a nice thing to do," James replied, "and it would make mum happy. Don't you want mum to be happy?"

Damien nodded.

"Okay then." he turned and bolted from the room, running up the stairs.

James stood up, his gaze travelled back to Harry, who was gathering all the cards to pack them away. James walked over to the table, pulling off his Auror robes. He sat down, draping the blue cloak over one chair. Harry got up, heading for the door, the box of cards in his hands.

"Harry?"

He paused, looking around at James.

"Yeah, dad?"

James waved a hand.

"Come here, sit down."

Harry joined him at the table, setting the box beside him.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

James didn't reply. He reached into his robes pocket, which was still draped over the back of a chair. He pulled out a folded piece of blank parchment and a self inked quill. He flattened the paper and placed the quill on top. Then he pushed the parchment across to Harry.

"I want you to write down _every_ single Death Eater's name."

Harry stared at him, surprise flitted over his face. He began to shake his head.

"Dad, I told you, I don't-"

"Don't, Harry," James stopped him, "don't, I know that you know who they are. You know more than you're letting on, about Death Eaters and about Voldemort."

Harry's mouth clicked closed. He leaned back, arms crossed at his chest. Green eyed darkened as he stared at his dad.

"Right now, I don't even care about the identities of Voldemort's men," James said, "what I care about, is you hiding things from me," he met the green stare, "I understand your reluctance to talk about Voldemort, really, Harry, I do. But I won't have you blatantly lie to my face." he pointed at the parchment. "I'm asking you to write down the names of all the Death Eaters you know but I promise you, I won't use it, I won't even _look_ at it. I'll take the parchment and burn it, unseen, unread, in front of you," his eyes locked with Harry's. "I'm not asking you to give up information you feel unprepared to give, but I need to know that you won't lie to me, that you're willing to do as I ask. I need to know that you trust me."

Something sparked in Harry's eyes, but James couldn't make sense of it.

Harry looked down at the parchment and quill. Uncurling his arms, he reached for it. His fingers touched the edge of the parchment and slowly, he pushed the parchment back towards James.

"You want me to trust you?" he asked quietly, "then give me a reason."

Both father and son held each other's gaze. Harry got up, picked up the cards box and left.

Worn out, James turned away, running a hand through his hair. He caught Lily standing at the kitchen door, staring at him with disappointment. With a shake of her head, she moved back into the kitchen, leaving him sitting at the family table, alone.

xxx

Harry stepped out of the fireplace, brushing soot off his formal robes. Almost immediately, the fireplace glowed green behind him and Lily appeared. She brushed a hand down her dress before taking Harry's hand. She flipped back her hair, making her earrings dangle.

"Come on." she smiled.

They walked down the hallway, the sound of several voices reached Harry before they walked through the doorway into a large room, bustling with people. The host, Alice Longbottom, caught Harry's eye at once. She beamed at him, hurrying past her other guests to reach his and Lily's side.

"So glad you came!" she hugged Lily.

"How could we not?" Lily smiled. "Here." she handed her the gift bag.

"Thank you," Alice replied, "James and Damien not coming?" she asked.

"They'll be here soon." Lily replied.

Alice looked over at Harry.

"Neville's been asking for you," she smiled, "he was hoping you'd come."

Harry smiled back, not knowing what else to do or say.

Footsteps behind him made Harry turn around to see James and Damien approaching from the entrance floo. Damien let go of James' hand and raced along the way.

"Hello Mrs Longbottom!" he waved before running past her and into the room.

"Damy!" Lily called behind him, "slow down!"

"It's okay." Alice laughed, "he's off to find his friends. Look, he's found Ron already."

Harry saw the red haired boy talking to Damien. A nod and then Damien turned, pointing a finger at him. Ron's freckled face split into a grin before he waved at Harry.

Harry waved back.

"Go on, Harry," Lily nodded, "go mingle."

Harry threw her a look but he smiled nonetheless. He stepped forward a few steps before Neville hurried over to meet him, beaming at him.

Lily watched happily as her eldest son was ushered away by Neville to the large group of boys near the patio doors.

"Can I get you a drink?" Alice asked.

"I'm okay." Lily replied.

"Where's the birthday boy?" James smiled.

"_Acting_ like a boy, over there." Alice gestured to the other side of the room, where rumbustious laughter was coming from. "I knew having a party for his 35th was a bad idea." she grinned.

James set off to see his friend, while Alice took Lily to meet the other guests.

xxx

It was great to meet all his friends, after so long. James had been so preoccupied lately, he hadn't even had a chance to meet up with Remus and Sirius. He stood with Frank, Remus and Sirius on either side of him, chatting to Kingsley, Moody and about half of the Auror force. Most of the Order was here, at Frank's birthday celebration, except Dumbledore.

"He couldn't make it," Remus told James, "he's busy with with a mission, something about the Giants allegiances."

James nodded. He looked over as the door opened and another member of the Order and fellow Auror, appeared. James felt uncomfortable as he met Sturgis' eyes. The man walked over with his wife, wished Frank a happy birthday but ignored James. After a good twenty minutes of casual chatter, Sturgis met James' eye. He beckoned James towards the kitchen. The two men took refuge from the party in the quiet kitchen, so they could talk.

"Did you watch it?" Sturgis asked.

James nodded.

"I did."

Sturgis met his eyes.

"What'd you think?"

James shook his head.

"I was appalled, to be honest." he said, "I never imagined Harry could be like...like that."

Sturgis shifted, leaning closer to James.

"I haven't said anything to anyone for the simple fact that you're my friend." he said, "I told Minister Fudge the orb was faulty and didn't record anything. I had to give him my report though. I tried to make it as interesting but vague as I could, but it's not going to stop the Minister from issuing another order to make enquiries. He's desperate to get something, anything from Harry and he's not going to stop," he paused, his eyes fixed to James, "and with the kind of attitude your boy has, he's going to make life very difficult for himself."

"He's only a kid, Sturgis." James urged.

The other man's lips thinned to a line and his eyes glinted in annoyance.

"He sure didn't sound much like a kid."

The door opened and Alice and Lily walked in, followed by Remus and Sirius.

"Oh, there you are," Alice said at the sight of James, "we were wondering where you two disappeared to," her smiled faded at the expression of the two men, "is everything alright?"

Sturgis stepped away with a tight smile.

"Everything's fine." he nodded. "I should see where Catherine is." he left the kitchen with quick steps.

Sirius and Remus looked back at James.

"What's going on?" Sirius asked, "what was Podmore saying to you?"

"It's nothing," James tried again, "I'll tell you about it another day."

"What's wrong with today?" Remus asked.

James' gaze darted once to Alice.

"Time and place isn't appropriate." he mumbled.

Alice stepped forward.

"Something's wrong," she said softly, "I can see it in your eyes." she shook her head at him, "please don't tell me you're keeping quiet because you think today should be about a grown man's birthday party?" her brown eyes narrowed at him, "because that, James Potter, would be the most idiotic thing ever."

James gave her a small, weak smile.

"Sturgis had to interrogate Harry, on the Minister's orders." he revealed.

Alice's eyebrows shot up at once.

"What?" she looked around to see the other three weren't at all surprised. She realised she was the only one who didn't know. "When did this happen?"

"Last week." James replied. "Sturgis gave me the recording of the interview." he avoided looking at his friends. He hadn't told them yet what he had seen. "Sturgis asked Harry about Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Harry gave him the same answer he gave Dumbledore; that he didn't know anything." James looked up to meet Alice's gaze. "But he knows. It's clear in his answers, he knows but he's not telling."

Alice's face softened.

"He's a child," she said, "he's afraid, it's not hard to imagine why."

"It's not that," James shook his head. "He's not afraid, that's the thing." his gaze flickered to his friends, "you should have seen him. He was openly defying Sturgis. The way he was talking," he shook his head, "it was as if he wasn't a ten year old child, but someone much older. Sturgis accused him of lying and Harry...he smirked at him and told him if he was, Sturgis would never know about it." he looked up into Alice's shocked eyes. "I'm I crazy or is that not normal?"

Alice didn't say anything.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Sirius asked, "you kept this to yourself?"

Lily suddenly let out a derisive snort.

"He was too busy interrogating his son," she said, "didn't have time to talk to anyone else."

Remus and Sirius were stunned. They turned back to stare at James.

"You did what?" Sirius asked, advancing towards him.

"I wasn't interrogating Harry," James defended, "I was trying to get through to him."

"By forcing information out of him?" Lily asked, "not a good way, James."

"You didn't see the recording," James said to his wife, "you don't know how Harry spoke-"

"It doesn't matter," Lily returned, "he's our son! You should be more angry at Sturgis and the Minister for interrogating a ten year old boy!"

"He's protecting Voldemort!" James snapped. Silence fell across the others, as each stared in shock at James. "Harry's hiding things from us, from me. He's blatantly protecting Voldemort and his Death Eaters by refusing questions he knows the answers to."

"How can you say that?" Lily asked, green eyed wide and filled with accusation. "You don't know that-"

"Yes, I do, Lily," James replied, "I saw it in Harry's eyes, the first time Dumbledore spoke to him. I saw it in every muscle of his body when he was speaking to Sturgis. I even saw it when I spoke to him and asked him to give me the names of Death Eaters. There's defiance in him, Lily and I'm terrified of where it'll lead him."

"You should be," came a gruff voice. Everyone turned around to see Alastor, 'Mad-Eye', Moody at the door. "From the sounds of it, you have a great problem at hand."

James tensed. The last person he wanted involved in this discussion was _'paranoid'_ Moody.

"It's okay, Alastor," he said, "I know what I'm doing."

Moody grinned and shook his head slowly, grisly grey hair danced about his shoulders.

"You don't have a clue what you're doing," he said, "if you had, you wouldn't be in this mess."

"What do you mean?" Lily asked, green eyes narrowed.

"I heard what you said, about your boy protecting Voldemort," he limped closer, "doesn't surprise me." he came to stand before James. "It seems Voldemort knew what he was doing and you lot played straight into his hands."

"What are you talking about?" James asked.

Moody leaned forward, his magical eye darted to all corners, but his human eye was fixed on James.

"How certain are you, that the boy is even your son?"

James stared at him. If he wasn't feeling so tense, he would have laughed.

"What are you trying to say?" it was Alice who asked.

Moody turned to her.

"Have you looked at the boy?"

"_Have you?_" Sirius asked, so angry his teeth were bared, "he looks exactly like James! And he's got Lily's eyes!"

Moody smirked.

"Exactly," he said, "a little too _carbon copy_ for it to be genuine, don't you think?"

"Wait," Remus said, "you think Voldemort set this up?"

Moody nodded.

"Think about it," he prompted, "isn't it all a little too convenient? A child stolen nine years ago turns up at your doorstep. His appearance is so alike his parents, no one ever doubts the identity of the child." he met James' eyes, "that boy isn't your son, James. He's most likely a spy, sent by Voldemort to gather information about us; the Order."

"You're barking mad," Sirius breathed, wide blue eyes staring at him, "you've completely lost it."

"Have I?" Moody asked, "Voldemort comes to the _same_ place as the boy, on the _one_ day the boy is out of the house. They meet, they talk and Voldemort leaves, just like that," he clicked his fingers in a loud snap, "and the boy refuses to disclose the nature of their discussion." he smirked again, "tell me that doesn't sound suspicious. Maybe what he and Voldemort talked about, was how much information the boy had accumulated."

"In front of Lily and James?" Remus asked, "sounds like a rather weak plan, stealth wise." he mocked.

Moody shrugged.

"I never said it was a great plan."

"You're way off," Alice said, "you're looking at it the wrong way."

"Maybe," Moody said, he turned to meet James' silent stare, "but it does beg the question; how can you be _absolutely_ sure he is your son?"

"He's my son," James said in a furiously quiet voice, "there's no doubt about it."

"Really?" Moody asked, seemingly surprised. "You don't have any doubts?"

"None at all," Lily answered, "he's Harry and he's not a spy."

Moody turned to look back at James.

"Constant Vigilance, James," he said, "Voldemort is using your emotions to cloud your sight and common sense." he shook his head, "don't let yourself be blinded. Look at that boy, look at him carefully and you'll see, he's not normal."

"What do you know about being normal?" Sirius scoffed.

"I've been watching that boy ever since he arrived," Moody said, "and I haven't seen even one mannerism that suggests he's a ten year old child."

"Oh, so what is he?" Sirius asked. "A Dragon? A Hippogriff? Oh, I know, he must be a Unicorn!"

"Sirius." Remus hushed.

"No," Sirius pulled his arm out of his grip, "he's insane!" he pointed at Moody, "he can't just stand there and accuse my godson of being a spy!"

"Have you done any checks?" Moody asked, "any spells to check his identity, to make sure he _is_ your godson?"

"There's no need," James said, "I don't need a spell to tell me he's my son. I can feel it, in my very bones, he's my Harry."

"Then perhaps we should put this matter to rest," Moody said with a lopsided smirk. He turned to the door. "Let's just see if there's any glamours on the boy, shall we?"

"What?" James exclaimed, "Hey! Alastor, wait!"

But Moody had already left the kitchen, walking across the busy room, seeking out Harry. James and the rest followed after him, calling out his name.

"Moody! Wait!"

"Don't you dare!" Lily darted after him.

"Calm down," Moody called behind him, "it's only a Finite Incantatem."

His magical eye saw Harry in the midst of the Weasley kids and Neville.

"Alastor! No!" James hurried after him, Lily, Alice, Sirius and Remus right behind him.

Harry had his back to Moody. It was the commotion of his parents' voices that made him turn around, midway of Ron's tale. He narrowed his eyes at the strange looking man, advancing at him. The man reached into his robes and Harry knew, without a shadow of a doubt, he was reaching for a wand.

It was instinctual. As Moody pulled out his wand, Harry's hand disappeared into the pocket of his robes. In the blink of an eye, Moody was pointing his wand at Harry, who was pointing one right back at him.

xxx


	7. Family Outings

**Disclaimer** I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

**Chapter Seven**

The chatter in the room hushed into a sudden silence. Every eye, Auror, Order or otherwise, was fixed on either Alastor Moody or Harry Potter and of course, the wands pointed at each other. No one had expected a duel at a birthday party, let alone the two individuals concerned to be a fully fledged Auror up against a mere ten year old child. But Moody smirked at the sight of Harry's wand. A glint of triumph lit his human eye, whilst his magical one, rolled around the socket, taking in everyone's shocked expressions.

But James didn't look shocked. Rather, he looked like he had forgotten how to breathe. He stood, gaping at the sight. His mouth open, eyes so wide they bulged outward slightly. He took a stumbling step forward.

"Where-where did you get that wand?" he asked.

But Harry didn't reply. His eyes were fixed on Moody, seemingly ignoring everyone else. James held out a hand.

"Lower that wand, Harry."

"Tell your friend to lower his first." came the boy's simple reply.

Moody smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"Got a pair on you," he commended, "good for you, kid."

James slowly edged himself closer, aiming to stand before Harry, so the wand would be pointed at his own chest and not Moody's head.

"Harry, put the wand _down_." he repeated.

Harry met his eyes but shook his head.

"Not until he lowers his first."

"Tough luck, kid," Moody replied, "I'm doing nothing of the sort, especially now that I know you're armed."

"Alastor!" Alice was by his side in a flash, "put your wand down, now!"

But Moody ignored her, eyes fixed on Harry and Harry alone.

"You know how to use that thing or is it for show purposes only?"

Harry smirked.

"Why don't you try and curse me, you'll find out yourself."

"Alastor! Don't you dare!" Lily was suddenly in the way, blocking Moody's aim.

"Calm down, Lily," Moody said, in a biting tone, "I wouldn't curse him, not until he gives me a reason."

"Alastor, enough," Frank came forward, "what do you think you're doing?" he asked, "lower your wand, _immediately!_"

Moody obliged, letting his arm fall to his side, wand still gripped tight. Harry did the same. The small gesture was enough to break the tension in the room. The guests let out relieved breaths and whispers broke out, fingers started pointing, mostly at Harry. Ron and Neville watched with dry mouths as Harry still held onto his wand, white-knuckled.

James, looking a lot calmer, reached out to Harry.

"Give me the wand, Harry."

Again, the ten year old met the gaze but shook his head.

"I think I'll hold onto it, for now." he threw Moody a dark look.

"Give me the wand," James repeated, fast losing patience, "_now_."

Harry met his angry gaze.

"No."

James stared at him, stunned at his defiance.

"Still think he's your kid?" Moody asked with a chuckle.

James whirled around, fists clenched. He was so angry he was ready to throw punches, the muggle way.

"Just shut up, alright!" he snarled.

"What's going on?" Frank asked, truly bewildered, "what are you talking about?" he addressed Moody.

"It was just a suggestion," Moody said, "but I'm beginning to think I was right."

"About what?" Frank asked.

"Alastor, don't," Lily warned, "this has nothing to do with you! Just keep-"

"I don't think he's James' son." Moody said with a nod at Harry, ignoring Lily completely.

The room hushed once again. Every eye was on Harry, but Harry's startled gaze landed on his parents.

"What?" Frank asked, "are you insane? Have you looked at him?" he gestured to Harry.

"Have you?" Moody repeated, "didn't you see him just now? When he pulled a _wand_ on me?"

"You pulled one on me first." Harry defended in a quiet, yet furious voice.

"I'm an adult." Moody quipped back, "are you one as well? Under the glamour, I mean?"

Harry didn't say anything.

"We're leaving." James suddenly spoke, anger laced in ever syllable of his words, "come on." he moved forward, took Damien's hand and reached out for Harry's when the boy stepped back, moving his hand out of reach. James stared at him, surprised, "Harry?"

But Harry simply stared back at him. His gaze moved to Lily before finally settling on the smirking face of Auror Moody.

"What were you going to do?" he asked, "see if there were any glamours on me?"

"That was the plan, yes." Moody replied.

"To prove who I am?" Harry asked. His gaze darted to his parents again before he straightened up. Silently, he moved towards the window, the room watching him intently. Harry picked up one of the glasses from the tray, resting on the sill, and held it in his hand. He turned back around to stare at Moody, "I'll give you one better," he said, "to really prove who I am."

The tip of his wand touched the glass.

"Transferro Pudelīte."

The crystal glass shrunk in Harry's hand and transformed into an elongated vial. Harry turned to look at his parents, seeing the sheer shock in their eyes at his effortless transfiguration. He met his dad's gaze, as he moved to do the next part. A hissed incantation and the tip of his wand sharpened. Harry saw the alarm on his dad's face.

"Harry, no," James stepped forward, "stop, right now!"

"Don't, Harry-" Lily started.

"You need proof of who I am?" Harry asked, halting both parents mid-step, "then this is the only test that can't be manipulated."

Harry ran his wand across his palm, slicing the flesh open. He didn't as much as wince, but the people present gasped, as if it were them that had been cut. Harry closed his hand into a fist, a thin line of blood trickled down his hand and dropped into the vial. Ensuring there was plenty in the vial, Harry pulled his hand away, flicked the glass tube closed and casually threw it at Moody.

"Here," he said, "knock yourself out."

Moody caught the vial, but was too busy staring at Harry, something akin to anxiety flashed on his face when he stared at the bleeding hand. But he glanced down at the transfigured vial and put his wand to it at once, whispering the blood identity spell. Words carved themselves into the air, directly above the vial. _Harry James Potter._

"There," Harry said, a satisfied smirk on his face, even as he wrapped two paper napkins across his bleeding hand, "now you have no reason to point your wand at my face."

Moody didn't say anything, but his grip on the vial tightened.

"I think there's something you owe, Harry?" Frank said, quiet anger laced his words.

Moody smirked and took a limping step closer to the boy.

"Until next time." he said.

Harry glowered at him.

"Anytime." he replied.

Moody chuckled, as if finding the small boy hilarious.

"Alastor!" Frank called to him, "you disrupted my party and insulted my guest," he said, "an apology is due."

"I'm sorry," Moody said, turning to face him, "I never meant to _disrupt_ your party."

"Not to me," Frank shook his head, "apologise to Harry. You falsely accused him and brandished a wand at him for no good reason."

"I don't know about that," Moody said, turning to look at Harry again, "it seems there may be a very good reason to point a wand at him."

Harry smirked back at him.

But James had appeared by his side. He took a hold of Harry's arm and pulled him away.

"Come on," he said, his voice gruff, "we're leaving."

Lily held Damien's hand while James led Harry out. Frank and Alice ran behind them.

"I'm so sorry, James, Lily," Alice profusely apologised, "please, don't leave like this. Stay, just until the cake-"

"Sorry, Alice," James cut across her, "we can't stay. I'm sorry."

A handful of floo powder, green flames and Harry was spinning his way back to Godric's Hollow.

xxx

The evening was tense. As soon as all Potters were back at Godric's Hollow, James and Lily had rushed to the kitchen, pulled out the first aid box and taken their seats in front of Harry. Damien had been sent upstairs to change out of his formal robes. James took Harry's injured hand into his own and pulled the paper napkin away.

"It's okay," Harry said quietly, "I can do it myself." he made to take the box from Lily's hand but she pulled it back.

James glanced up at Harry, hazel eyes wide and clouded.

"No one should be left to heal themselves." he said.

Harry stayed silent. He sat rigid and still. Not a sound left him, as Lily and James cleaned the cut. Lily brought out her wand and pointed at the red line across Harry's palm.

"Episkey."

The cut closed, leaving behind only a faint, pinkish mark. James brought out a tub of salve and applied a thin layer.

"There, it won't leave as much as a mark." he said, sounding very much like he was comforting himself, rather than Harry.

Harry pulled his hand back, resting it in his lap, his head bowed. He didn't want to look up and see their angry faces. He knew he didn't have it in him to deal with that.

"You shouldn't have done the identity spell." Lily said, while she packed away the box of supplies.

"I didn't have a choice." Harry replied without looking up.

"What do you mean by that?" James asked.

Now Harry did look up, meeting his dad's hazel gaze.

"You wanted proof." he stated, ignoring the way his heart clenched with pain, "you didn't trust me, had doubts about who I..." he paused, pain flashing in his young eyes, before he shook his head, "forget it. It doesn't matter."

Lily moved forward, so she was kneeling in front of Harry.

"Not even for a single moment, did we have any doubts whatsoever, that you were our son." she said.

Harry stared at her.

"But, that man, he said-"

"Moody is an idiot." James cut him off, "he was being his usual paranoid self. Take no notice of him in the future."

Harry's eyes narrowed.

"He was pointing a wand at me. Kind of hard to not notice that."

The room hushed to silence. James' gaze darted to Harry's robe pocket, where he knew the wand was hidden. Lily looked conflicted, before she moved forward, lips parting to speak.

"Harry, I-"

"MUM!"

Damien's shout came from upstairs.

Lily paused, her face turned to the door.

"What is it, Damy?"

"Come here!" came the reply.

Lily got to her feet.

"Give me five minutes," she said to Harry, "I'll get Damy to his bed first." she smiled and brushed a hand through Harry's hair before turning to the door.

James and Harry were left in the living room. For the first few minutes, no one said anything. Then, bracing himself, James edged closer to Harry.

"Where did that wand come from?"

Harry raised his head to look at him.

"You mean who made it?" he shrugged, "not sure."

"No," James closed his eyes, shaking his head a little, "I meant where did it _come_ from? How did you get it?"

"Oh," Harry shifted in his seat, "I had it with me, the night I...came back."

"You had the wand with you, all this time?" James asked.

Harry nodded, the lie sticking to the back of his mouth, like syrup. He did his best not to grimace and give himself away. Luckily, James was too preoccupied to notice.

"I never thought you would already have a wand." he said, looking pained, "that day, at Diagon Alley, you were looking to Ollivanders like you wanted a wand."

Harry swallowed, shifting to face his dad.

"I was just curious if my wand came from that...that shop."

James' eyes widened.

"You don't know who made your wand?"

Harry shook his head. At least this was true. He had been presented with a selection of wands, all of which had failed to work. Then his father had stopped, smiled and went off to return a day later, with this one. He had handed it to him, remarking '_this one will choose you. I know it will._' Of course, he had been right. The wand glowed as soon as Harry touched it, shooting out red sparks.

Harry closed his eyes, forcing the memory back, not wanting to remember how warmly his father had smiled at him then. The glint in those red eyes as he beamed with pride. '_Brother wands, how fitting..._'

"Harry?"

Harry snapped his head up, blinking.

"Yeah?"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Harry shook his head, "nothing at all."

James studied him with concerned eyes. His hand lifted to rake gently through Harry's hair.

"You sure, son? You look a little...lost?"

Harry smiled. Lost. That was one way of putting how he felt.

"I'm just...tired." he mumbled.

James nodded but he didn't send him off to bed. He continued to sit, in strained silence.

"That, um," James shifted uncomfortably, "that was a very impressive display; the way you transfigured the glass into a vial." he nodded, "it was...surprising."

Harry only nodded.

James looked at him, studying him with intense eyes.

"You're really good at Transfiguration," he commented, "you must get that from me," he smiled, "I found a had a knack for Transfiguration at my very first lesson."

Harry simply nodded, preferring not to say anything.

"Of course, I was older than you before I even had a wand." James said, "I had a training wand, but I broke so many my father refused to get me anymore," he shook his head, smiling at past memories, "but even I couldn't have done what you did at such a young age." his hazel gaze roamed Harry's face, "can you do other spells? Or is it just Transfiguration?"

Harry was lost. He hadn't expected this from his dad. He was mentally preparing himself for a telling off. He thought his dad would be angry at the magic he had performed tonight. But instead, his dad was asking what else he could do?

"I...um," Harry shifted again, pulling at the collars of his robes, "I don't know," he shrugged, "I can do other...stuff."

"Other stuff?" James raised his eyebrows, a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth, "what kind of _stuff?_"

Again, Harry shrugged.

"I don't know, spells and hexes," he started, "like for duelling and things."

Now, James' eyebrows shot up so high, they disappeared behind the messy bangs that fell onto his forehead.

"Really?" he asked, "what spells and hexes do you know?"

Harry stared at James, trying to figure him out. He didn't look angry, but Harry knew he should be. His dad should be freaking out that Voldemort had taught him magic, so why was he sitting so calmly, and grinning at him like that?

"I...uh, I know most of them." Harry replied.

James threw back his head and laughed, the sound and sight startled Harry.

"_Most_ of them?" James asked, his eyes gleamed in amusement, "I know that's not true. I don't even know most of them and I'm a fully fledged Auror."

"Well, yeah, I mean, I don't know _all_ of them, but...but I know quite a few duelling hexes." Harry revised.

"Defensive or?"

"Both." Harry replied.

"I see." James seemed a little more subdued now. He took a moment before he spoke. "Can I see your wand?"

Harry stiffened. He glanced warily at his dad.

"I...I don't think-"

"I only want to see it." James assured. "I'm curious."

Harry paused before slowly reaching into his pocket and pulling the stick out. He held it in his hand, silently relishing the rush of warmth it brought to him. He glanced to his dad's outstretched hand and had to force himself to place his wand into the waiting hand.

James held it up, studying it with curious eyes.

"It looks like an Ollivander wand," James said, "same high quality, flawless craftsmanship." he looked to Harry, "very nice."

Harry suddenly had the mental picture of his dad snapping his wand in two. He could actually see it happen and it brought a heart-wrenching shudder to him. He had to suppress the urge to grab the wand.

But all James did was give the wand a last sweeping glance before holding it out for Harry to take. Surprised that his dad was giving it back, Harry took the wand and pocketed it, all the while staring at him.

"What?" James asked.

"Nothing," Harry swallowed heavily again, "it's just...I thought...I thought you would get...angry."

"Angry?" James frowned, "about what?"

Harry avoided meeting his gaze.

"That I know magic."

"You're a wizard, Harry," James smiled, "why wouldn't you know magic?"

"I meant, you might get angry that I learned magic, from...from _him_."

James stilled, the smile vanished. He stared at Harry for a long moment, making the child wish he hadn't said anything. Then, with a sigh, he dropped his head, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm not angry," he assured, "not at you anyway. How can I hold anything against you? None of this is your fault." he said, "if anything, it's my fault. I was the one who failed to protect you. It was my friend that took you away." his eyes hardened as guilt filled them, "everything that's happened to you, whatever it is that you've been through, it all comes down to me. I'm the one to blame, not you."

Harry gave a small nod. He didn't believe him. How could it be that whatever _he_ had done would become his dad's fault?

"I am annoyed at you though." James said.

Harry snapped his head up to look at him.

"What?" he asked, his heart beating fast, "why?"

"You didn't listen to me," James said, "at Frank's, when I asked you to hand over your wand, you didn't listen. You answered me back."

Harry swallowed heavily. He didn't like that look in his dad's eyes. It was terrifyingly similar to the glint he remembered in his childhood memories of _'James Potter'_, the one that would tell him how disappointed he was, right before he was hurt. Warily, Harry's gaze travelled to James' hands, watching them, tensing at the slightest twitch.

"I hope next time, when I ask you to do something, you respect me enough to do it. It was rather embarrassing having my own son tell me 'no' in a room full of my friends." James continued.

Harry couldn't answer. He was horribly aware of how close he was sitting. If his dad struck him, he would have no space to dodge the blow.

"Harry?"

The hands moved and Harry flinched. But both hands simply moved to each of Harry's shoulders, the grip warm and comforting, not brutal in anyway.

"Harry, hey? What's wrong?"

Harry finally dared to look up, only to see concern and confusion on his dad's face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" James asked, "you're sweating," he touched Harry's brow, where beads of perspiration had gathered, "what-what happened? What's wrong?"

Harry managed a tight smile, mentally berating himself. His dad wouldn't hit him, not even to '_drive home the message_', like the _dad_ in his childhood used to. That was Voldemort, not James.

"Nothing," Harry lied, "I'm just...I'm...sorry," he struggled with the simple word, "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

James smiled, but his eyes still had confusion and concern in them, as he studied Harry.

"That's okay," he said, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "just don't do it again. I was afraid Moody would do something stupid if you didn't lower your wand."

"He shouldn't have aimed at me," Harry said, "I was only defending myself."

James nodded.

"I do understand," he said, "but Moody is an experienced Auror. You are a ten year old child," he smiled warmly, "however skilled you may think you are, you wouldn't have stood a chance against Moody."

Harry's lips turned upwards into a small, proud smile.

"You reckon?"

James smiled.

"Yeah, I do."

Harry shrugged, giving a playful little sigh.

"It's a shame, how deluded you are."

"Is that so?" James asked, both eyebrows raised, "alright, little scamp, how about a duel then?"

Harry's eyes sparkled at once.

"Against you?"

"Scared?" James challenged, "come on then, show your old man what tricks you've learned."

Harry turned a little solemn, but the proposition of a duel was much too exciting to dampen his mood for long.

"For real?" he asked.

"For real." James confirmed.

Harry looked around the room.

"We can't duel in here." he said, gesturing to the small living room.

James glanced to the window.

"How about the garden?"

Harry grinned.

"Let's go."

xxx

"First we bow," James said, bending at the waist, "can't forget our manners, even when duelling." he winked.

Harry sniggered but obliged, bowing slightly, keeping his eyes fixed on his dad. His cloak fell about him, the one James had insisted Harry wore to protect against the cold chill.

"Alright son," James gestured to himself with both hands, "give it to me."

Harry shook his head

"I don't take the first shot."

James stilled, the mirth disappearing from him in an instant.

"Sorry?"

Harry tried his best to remain composed.

"In all the duelling lessons I've had, I've never taken the first shot."

James looked marginally calmer, but his pallor had turned almost white.

Harry berated himself. He had to watch himself, otherwise his dad would find out he wasn't trained to duel for educational purposes only.

"Okay," James gave himself a shake, as if to clear the awkward moment, "I'll start then."

Harry planted his feet on the grass, wand gripped in one hand, eyes focused on his dad.

"Go for it."

James took in a breath, locked his gaze with Harry and lifted his wand to aim at him.

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry ducked and the spell flew over his head and hit the tree, upsetting a nearby cat.

Harry raised himself, grinning.

"A disarming spell?" he asked, "what are you, eight?"

James looked affronted.

"Oh? So let's see your skill set, _genius_."

Harry squared his shoulders, raised his wand and shot out his first spell.

"Immobulus!"

Harry's freezing charm soared through the air and would have hit James square in the chest if it wasn't for the shield that he had conjured. The force of the spell still had James stagger a step or two back. He looked up at Harry, first with surprise, then with a beaming smile.

"Bloody hell," he breathed, "that was some force behind that spell."

Harry just shrugged, but couldn't help smile back.

James straightened up, shoulders squared, feet apart, taking the duel a little more seriously now.

"Locomotor Mortis!" James yelled.

Harry side stepped to avoid it.

"Oi!" James yelled, but he was laughing heartily, "you can't just step to the side."

"Why not?" Harry asked.

"Because...because..." James was struggling to think of something, "because it makes me look stupid, that's why!"

Harry grinned.

"I can't stop the inevitable."

"Why you cheeky little..." James took aim and sent another curse, "Petrificus Totalus!"

Harry ducked again, chuckling as his dad sent another two curses at him, which he avoided by diving to the ground.

"Reducto!" he aimed at Damien's football, lying forgotten under a tree. The ball flew back and hit James, square in the stomach, winding him.

"Oof!" James doubled over. The wand in his hand was suddenly wrenched out of his grip. Panting, James looked up to see his ten year old, holding both wands and wearing a victorious grin.

"You're disarmed." he stated, "I win."

James straightened up.

"No, no, no," he waved his hands about, "I demand a rematch!"

Harry shrugged.

"Okay," he threw James back his wand, "I don't mind how many times I beat you."

James stood tall.

"I was being soft on you," he said, "now, all bets are off."

Harry sniggered again.

"Yeah, yeah."

They started their playful duel again, with James yelling and bright flashes of spells lighting up the back garden. Lily stood at the door, watching father and son as they laughed and ducked and dived from each others spells. Looking at them now, it didn't seem like there was any tension between them, or that Lily had walked in on James trying to interrogate information out of Harry. Lily smiled, her heart swelled with happiness at the sight of James and Harry laughing, getting along.

She watched as James finally gave up on duelling and threw his wand to the ground, choosing to confront Harry physically instead. Harry let out a surprised yelp as James tackled him to the ground, pinning him to the grass.

"Ow! Dad! No, this is...this is cheating!" Harry yelled, still laughing as he wrestled against James.

"I don't care." James returned, with a beaming smile.

Lily muttered a prayer under her breath, asking for her family to remain like this; happy, laughing and together and that no evil eye should befall her family again.

xxx

The torches flickered to life, in one big burst of flames. They cast an eerie glow across the darkened chamber. Tonight, there were only three people in this chamber. Three people and a giant serpent, curled under her master's chair. Snakes don't have expressions. But still, one look at Nagini tonight and anyone would swear the serpent looked miserable. She too, was mourning the loss of her young master.

Bella stood, watching the serpent with her dark, heavy-lidded eyes. She had seen Nagini and Harry talking many times, their hissing a strange comforting noise in the background when she was busy carrying out her master's bidding. She too could see the effect Harry's disappearance left on the serpent. And as strange as it was, Bella found herself getting jealous and annoyed.

Nagini only had Harry in her company once, maybe twice in the month. She, on the other hand, was with Harry constantly. She taught him lessons daily. She accompanied him at the table if Lord Voldemort wasn't home. She was the one who attended to any tiny scrapes or scratches Harry may get during training. She was the one who would get up in the middle of the night and tiptoe to his room, to ensure Harry was sleeping soundly. She was the one who had neither slept nor ate anything properly since Harry had left. It was she that felt the loss stab her in the heart she had forgotten she had. It was she that cared, not that stupid snake!

Nagini lifted her head and turned to look at Bella, as if she could feel her thoughts. The forked tongue flickered out and a gentle hiss rang in the chamber but that was the extent of it. Nagini put her head back down, curling tighter and lay still.

"Bella?"

Bella snapped her gaze to her master.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Having a staring contest with Nagini would be foolish," Voldemort said, "she had no eyelids."

Bella only nodded and dropped her head.

"My Lord," Lucius, the third and last person in the chamber, addressed his master, "I have it in good faith that...that Harry is...he's settling down with the Potters."

Bella felt that stab in her chest getting tighter, the pain peaking until she felt like she couldn't breathe. She shook her head. How could Harry just leave like that? How could he stay away for so long? Didn't he know he belonged here?

"Have patience, Lucius," Voldemort said, seated in his chair, calm and composed, "Harry's living a dream right now. But sooner or later, he's going to have to wake up and when he does, he'll return home."

"My Lord," Lucius bowed, "and if...if he doesn't?"

Voldemort turned to look at him, red eyes sharpening a fraction.

"Are you doubting me?"

"No, my Lord," Lucius protested, "I could never dream of such insolence." he raised his head a little, "but pardon me for saying, the Dark Prince is stubborn and strong willed. What if he makes it work? What if he manages to stay with the Potters?"

"He won't." it was Bella who spoke, needing to say the words out loud, to convince herself as much as Lucius. "He needs to come home, he _will_ come home."

"Indeed, Bella," Voldemort smiled, "he will indeed."

Frustration was beginning to show on the blond aristocrat. His hands fidgeted with his snake-headed cane and his pale complexion was now tinged with pink.

"The Dark Lord knows best," he said, "but what if the Minister or that fool Dumbledore harass Harry for information? Yaxley and Brentford have reported that Harry has already made one visit to the Ministry. What if information is forced out of him?"

There was a hiss in the chamber as Nagini raised her head and bared her fangs. At the same time, Bella made a spitting noise.

"No one will dare do anything to the Dark Prince!" Bella stated, "I will rip them to shreds first!"

Lucius focused his attention on the Dark Lord. He knew his sister-in-law was insane at best of times. When emotionally distressed, she was downright crazy. He waited for Lord Voldemort to address his worries.

"Harry won't say anything to anyone about us." he assured, "if he was, he would have done so by now. Like you said, my son is stubborn and strong willed. Nothing can break him. Besides, Potter will shelter him, deluded by the notion that he can _protect_ him." he scoffed. "Let them live in foolish fantasies for a while longer. It will only help."

"How?" Lucius couldn't stop himself. "How will this help?"

Voldemort straightened up in his seat, red eyes burning.

"Nine years," he stated, "for nine years, we have led Harry, step-by-step, feeding him the information needed to shape him, to make him strong and loyal." he met Lucius' gaze, "but imagine if Harry decides to come back on his own. No more memory charms, no more struggles of keeping the truth from him. When those mud-blood loving fools realise Harry isn't an innocent boy, when they learn Harry has already taken a life, they will turn on him. They will cast Harry aside and then Harry will believe, _truly_ believe he has nowhere else to go, but here. Then, Lucius, Harry's loyalty will be ironclad. He will never waver from my side and he will do as I say because he knows that I am the only one that will accept him and his darkness."

Lucius nodded.

"You're right, my Lord," he said, "but time is slipping past us. Tomorrow will mark one month since Harry..." he trailed off, unable to say the words, '_left us_'.

Voldemort's eyes flashed but his cruel smile remained fixed.

"Harry will come back," he assured again, "I thought he would have been half way home by now, but no matter. He only needs a slight nudge in the right direction," his smile widened, "and I know just the push he needs."

xxx

"The what?" Harry asked, blinking in surprise.

"The circus," Lily repeated, "oh come on, don't look at me like that. It'll be fun."

"A muggle circus?" Harry shook his head, "what's so fun about that?"

"Petunia took Dudley to the circus last year and he loved it." Lily said, trying to button up Damien's coat, but the boy was adamant he was going to do it himself.

"I can do it, I can do it." the seven year old repeated the mantra as his little fingers fiddled with the buttons.

Lily turned to Harry.

"It'll be nice, James got the day off work, the whole family will be together," she tilted her head to the side, giving him a pleading look, "can you pretend to be excited? Please?"

Harry smiled, shaking his head at her.

"How would that help? You would know I'm being fake."

"At least I would get to see what you look like when you're excited." Lily replied.

Harry rolled his eyes but flashed her a big smile nevertheless.

"I'll get my coat." he said, turning to go upstairs.

"Harry?" Lily called, "it's a muggle circus, so no wands needed."

Harry faltered, mouth opening to argue.

"The only one taking his wand is your dad." Lily said, "even I'm leaving my wand behind."

Harry shut his mouth and gave a curt nod.

"Fine, I'll leave it behind." he promised and went upstairs.

xxx

When Harry came back downstairs, he slowed down at the sight of the dark haired man, waiting in the hallway.

"Hi Harry," Sirius beamed, "how do I look?" he held out his hands to either side, showing off his jeans and hoodie. "Do I look like a _Sirius_ muggle?" he chuckled at his own joke.

Harry forced himself down the rest of the stairs.

"You're not coming with us, are you?" he asked, hoping against hope the answer was no.

"Of course I'm coming!" Sirius laughed, "did you think I was going to miss the trip to a muggle circus? Who do you think I am? Remus?"

Harry didn't say anything but his previous, albeit strained, excitement fizzled away at the thought of Sirius with them. He knew it wasn't fair. He knew Sirius had done nothing to warrant his dislike, but no matter how hard he tried, Harry just couldn't get comfortable around him.

James walked out of the room, head bowed as he counted the strange notes, his wallet tucked under his arm.

"Forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty. Lily? Is One Thousand and Fifty pounds enough for the circus?"

"Oh, for goodness sake!" Lily rushed out behind him, grabbed the wad of cash, rifled through it and handed James a thin pile, "there, that's more than enough." she took away the rest mumbling, "Honestly, a thousand? I'm going to have to get this exchanged again...the rates I'm going to have to pay! All for what? _Men!_"

James turned to look at Sirius and Harry.

"Thank God, I was going to exchange Two Thousand first."

xxx

The circus was like nothing Harry had ever seen. There were colourful tents set up, wooden stalls that sold balloons, toys, food and drinks were situated between the tents. One tent had acrobats, doing all sorts of death defying tricks, the other had a boneless woman, twisting and bending her body into all sorts of inhumane positions. But the one Harry and his family enjoyed the most, was the Magician's show. The muggle in a cape with an enormous hat, from which he pulled out rabbits and flowers and all sorts of rubbish. Harry and Damien had tears of laughter, watching him.

"That's...that's what they call magic?" Harry was in hysterics, "oh, God! I can't breathe!"

James had to shush him repeatedly, albeit barely holding back his own laughter.

"Give the poor muggle a break." he whispered.

After the show, which had left Harry and Damien gasping for breath, the Potters and Sirius went outside to wander from stall to stall, pointing out all the weird and wonderful muggle trinkets. Lily held back at the one selling jewellery, while all four males hurried away from her.

"Dad! Look!" Damien pointed to the Ferris wheel, among other rides set up behind the tents. "Can I go on it? Please, please, please?"

James looked to Harry.

"Whatcha say, Harry?" he asked, "you wanna go on the rides?"

Harry shook his head.

"No, I don't like getting dizzy."

"I love getting dizzy!" Damien hopped at the spot. "Please, please, please!"

"Alright, pup, alright," Sirius reached down and grabbed the boy around the middle, hoisting him up. "Let's go get dizzy and throw up."

"Yay!" Damien cried, throwing both arms around Sirius' neck.

Sirius carried Damien away, leaving Harry behind to stare at them with something akin to longing, hidden in his eyes.

xxx

James and Harry worked their way through all the food stalls. When they got to the balloon one, James stopped and stared at the animal shapes.

"Which one you want, Harry?"

"I'm ten, dad," Harry pointed out, "I don't want balloon animals."

"Come on, choose one," James urged, digging his hand into his trousers pocket to pull out the paper money, "Damien's probably going to want the dog, what about you?"

Harry glanced over at the assorted, colourful balloons.

"The giraffe will do." he said.

James grinned and bought the two balloons, handing the string for the Giraffe-shaped one to Harry.

"There you go."

Harry took it, feeling like a right idiot.

"I wonder where you mother's at?" James said, scanning the area, "she's going to be annoyed at me for leaving her at that stall."

"Go find her," Harry said, "I'll wait here."

James shook his head.

"Come with me."

"Dad, it's fine." Harry said, reading the unspoken worry in his eyes, "nothing's going to happen to me. I'll wait here. I can't be bothered to walk all the way back, looking for mum. I'll wait here and you go find her."

James didn't look happy.

"It's fine, your mum will find us-"

"Go," Harry urged, "trust me, I'll be fine."

Finally, James moved back a step.

"Stay right here, at this exact spot, okay?"

Harry smiled,

"Feet are glued to the ground." Harry assured.

James smiled and darted back, weaving his way through the crowd. Harry let out a sigh and looked up at his balloon.

"I'm setting you free, Mr Giraffe." he said, then paused, "I'm talking to a balloon. What is wrong with me?"

With a shake of his head, Harry let go and the yellow giraffe-shaped balloon soared in the air, the gentle breeze picked it up and whisked it away.

Harry let out another sigh and glanced around. Not sticking to his word, Harry moved forward a few steps, admiring the trinkets set up on the closest stall. He moved forward only a few paces when he saw another stall, but this one was set up differently.

Firstly, it was a table, small and round and it had two wooden stools perched opposite each other. One one stool was a young woman, blonde and worried looking, clutching her handbag to her chest as she sat uncomfortably. Her hand was placed palm up on top of the table, clutched in the hands of a dark-skinned women, with wild curly black hair. Harry couldn't help stare at the dark-skinned woman. She was young, dressed in a pale yellow skirt and top, baring her midriff. Gold coloured discs dangled from her skirt and top, glistening every time the sunlight caught them. Harry wondered how the woman wasn't freezing in those clothes.

The woman was sitting with her head bowed, seemingly deep in concentration as the blonde woman looked more and more anxious. Suddenly, the dark-skinned woman stopped, snapping her head up, as if she had caught the scent of something. Her head turned in Harry's direction and her dark eyes met Harry's. She stopped, frozen in mid action, the blonde woman's hand still clutched in hers. It was as if she had turned to stone, her unblinking gaze fixed on Harry. Then suddenly, she smiled, revealing a flash of white teeth. She let go of the woman's hand, ignored her completely and sauntered up to Harry.

"My, my," she licked her lips as she scanned him from head to foot, "aren't you a delicious sight?"

"Excuse me?" Harry asked.

She smiled at him, moving to circle him. Her every movement brought a clinking chime as the gold discs on her skirt danced into each other.

"Your Aura," she said in a breathless voice, "it's like nothing I've seen before."

Harry narrowed his eyes.

"You're a witch?"

The woman stopped, looking affronted.

"Good heavens boy, no!" she protested, "I'm Gazelle, a Gypsy," she bowed before him, "real and in the flesh."

Harry smirked.

"A Gypsy?" he asked, "aren't you supposed to be...extinct?"

The Gypsy's dark eyes flashed with something akin to anger and she licked her lips again before smiling.

"Almost, child, almost," she said, "we've been driven out, but a few still remain, dwelling between Hell and Earth," she came to stand close to Harry, "survival is difficult, but we make do," she leaned in closer to him, her gaze dancing all over him, "mostly by devouring magic, such as yours, but your Aura," she took in a shuddering breath, "it's mouth-wateringly delicious."

Harry stepped back, his eyes cold and jaw set.

"Nice try," he scoffed, "but I know how you work. You can't take anyone's magic, they have to give it to you by their freewill."

The Gypsy shrugged.

"Technically, yes," she admitted, "now you know why we're almost extinct," she laughed; a tinkling sound much like the chime that echoed with her every move, "but no matter. The ones that know how to survive, like me, always find a way."

"Oh?" Harry mocked, "how's that?"

Gazelle moved closer, her curly black hair framed her face as she tilted her head to stare at Harry.

"Here, take this." she held up a coin.

"Thanks, but I have plenty of money." Harry replied.

She grinned again, the white of her teeth contrasting with her dark skin.

"This will be your most prized possession," she said, "you will need it, oh boy, will you need it," she chuckled, "and it will be your only way."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"I've had enough." he moved to leave but Gazelle had suddenly closed in on him, so close, her peppermint breath caressed his cheek when she spoke.

"I've read the lines on your brow, boy," she said, "trust me, your fate is not kind." she pressed the cold coin into Harry's hand. "Take it and use it when you need me."

"Need you?" Harry asked, "why would I need you?"

She took Harry by the shoulders and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"To help you, of course."

Harry backed away from her.

"Help? From you?" he scoffed, "I'm a wizard, I don't need help, and from a Gypsy no less." he flicked the coin back which Gazelle caught, effortlessly.

"Be not so arrogant, child," she said, "I can do what you cannot."

"Yeah?" Harry crossed his arms, "like what?"

The Gypsy smiled, rolling the coin in her fingers.

"I can do what you can't," she repeated, walking towards him, "magic is one that is unrestricted, limitless. There are no rules when it comes to magic," she scoffed lightly, "but you wizards and your endless rules. You build barriers that trap you. But Gypsies can do what wizards can't. We can tear open the sky, rule the Earth, break anything, possess anything, manipulate everything, living-" she came to stop in front of Harry, "or dead." she pushed the coin into his hand again and turned to walk away.

"You're wrong," Harry said behind her, "you can't manipulate death. No spell can bring back the dead."

She chuckled as she turned back around.

"My dear, sweet child. Who said anything about spells?"

She smiled at Harry's silence and turned around to walk away.

"Keep it, you're going to need it." she said and just like that, she disappeared into the crowd.

Harry glanced down at the strange coin, sitting in his palm. It was a Talisman, bronze, no bigger than a Galleon. It had strange engraving etched on both sides and a two-headed serpent in the middle. Harry snorted at it.

"Need it, my arse." he flicked the coin so it landed in the bin, a foot away.

He turned around to walk away, just in time as he saw his mum and dad approaching. So engrossed was Harry in his parents that he never noticed the man, half hidden behind one of the tents, staring at him. The long blond hair had been pulled back into a pony-tail. Dressed in jeans and a top, the pure-blooded Lucius Malfoy could easily pass for a muggle. But Lucius didn't have the time to worry about his appearance. He had a mission to complete.

"That's him," Lucius pointed to Harry, "take a good look at him."

The boy standing next to him nodded, a glazed look in his eyes. Lucius' wand took it's aim, hidden from view by the long sleeve of his top. He strengthened the Imperius as he spoke directly to the sixteen year old muggle.

"You are to provoke that boy," Lucius instructed, as the charmed muggle nodded, "you are to continue provoking him," he said, "until he kills you."

xxx


	8. To Face Your Fears

**Disclaimer** I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

**Chapter Eight**

It was almost nightfall by the time the Potters and Sirius decided they had enough of the circus. Damien was sleepy and tired. He had the balloon tied around one wrist and both hands wrapped around the huge golden-coloured stuffed lion with a big furry mane. He trudged alongside Harry, shifting the toy awkwardly in his arms.

"You want me to hold it?" Harry asked.

"Nah," Damien shook his head, hoisting the lion up again, "it's better if I carry it. It is _my_ prize."

"That _dad_ got for you." Harry pointed out.

Damien peered up at him with a furrowed brow.

"What'd you mean?"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Come on, you don't think you hit all those targets on your own, did you?"

Damien glanced at his parents backs and frowned.

"You sayin' dad cheated?"

Harry smiled.

"He used magic, Damy," he said, "it's not cheating."

Damien seemed to ponder over that, not quite watching where he was going. A bulky figure passed by the brothers, banging into both of them. The sudden shove knocked the lion out of Damien's hands, right into a melted ice puddle.

"Hey!" Harry snarled, turning to the retreating figure, "watch where you're going!"

The boy stopped and turned around. With beady eyes narrowed, damp dark curls sticking out from beneath the hood of his jacket, he growled back.

"What'd you say?"

"I said, watch where you're going." Harry repeated, unfazed by the threatening stance of the much bigger boy.

"Yeah? Or what?" the boy stepped closer.

"What's going on?" James was by Harry's side, having turned back at the sound of the argument. The boy stopped at the sight of James, watching him with sudden caution. James glanced at him but turned back to Harry, "what happened, Harry?"

"Nothing," Harry glowered, still staring at the boy. He turned and walked over to the drenched lion and lifted it up from the puddle, shaking it, causing dirty drops to rain around him.

"It's okay," Lily said, taking the stuffed toy from Harry, consoling a teary-eyed Damien. "I'll fix it as soon as we get home. It'll be as good as new."

Sirius picked Damien up, whispering about 'drying' charms and 'scourgify'. It settled Damien, who rested quietly in his uncle's arms.

James turned with a hard stare at the muggle teenager.

"You should be more careful next time," he said, "come on, Harry." James lead Harry away from the sour looking boy, who stood where he was, watching Harry walk away with narrowed eyes.

xxx

Harry didn't see the muggle boy again until they were in the circus car park. James had insisted on driving here, after explaining to a gob-smacked Harry that he learned the muggle technique to impress Lily. To which Lily had good-naturedly replied that there wasn't much impressing since she could overtake his driving by a simple walk.

Harry sat in the back with Damien and Sirius as they waited in the long line of cars, inching their way out of the gates. Damien was almost asleep, his head rested against Sirius' arm, the soggy lion still clutched in his hands.

"You not sleepy, Harry?" Sirius asked.

"No." Harry replied, sitting upright in his seat, staring out of the window.

"You can lean against my shoulder and sleep too," Sirius offered, "we'll probably be here till the morning, seeing the way your dad drives."

"Hey, this isn't my fault," James defended, "there's a queue."

"Uh-huh," Sirius teased, "good excuse, Potter, good excuse."

"There seems to be a hold up of some sort," Lily said, peering out the window, trying to see past the long line of cars. "I can't make out what it is though."

"It's probably just a bottleneck, with everyone trying to get out at once." James suggested.

They settled in silence for long minutes, just sitting in the car, not moving forward.

"James," Lily peered out from her passenger seat, "something's definitely wrong," she said, "look, you can see the security guards running to the gates."

James narrowed his eyes, trying to make out the shapes in the dark.

"I can't see anything," he said, "hold on, I'm just going to check what the hold up is." he opened the door and stepped out.

"I'll come with you." Lily did the same.

"I'll stay in the car!" Sirius called from the back, "you know, for the kids."

James raised an eyebrow.

"Uh-huh," he teased back, "you're just too lazy to get up."

"I'm tired," Sirius played along, "I've had too much fun and now I'm wiped."

James and Lily headed off in the dark, joined by others who also stepped out of their cars, to go and see the reason for the traffic jam.

Sirius let out a sigh.

"You not sleepy, Harry?" he asked.

Harry continued to stare out the window.

"You already asked me that."

"Oh, yeah, I did," Sirius said, "I think I'm the one that's tired."

"Go to sleep then." Harry replied still staring aimlessly out the window, just so he wouldn't have to look at Sirius.

"I would, but I need my Bulgaria pyjamas. I can't sleep without them." Sirius chuckled.

Harry didn't respond.

"What's up, champ?" he asked, "you're awfully quiet."

"It's a virtue," Harry replied, "you should try it sometime."

Sirius paused with a furrowed brow.

"Harry, what-?"

An ear splitting crash and Harry suddenly found himself ducking as something splattered across from the side. The pain didn't register, only the sensation of something sharp hitting across his neck and cheek.

"Damy!" Sirius' voice pulled Harry's attention and he looked around to see his seven year old brother, awake and terrified, with glittering shards of glass in his hair and across his lap. Standing outside his window was the tall muggle boy, an iron pipe in his hand which he had used to smash the window.

"What'd you have to say now?" he sneered at Harry before reaching into the broken window and snatching the lion from Damien's arms.

Dazed and confused, Damien barely reacted with anything other than a shocked cry.

"Hey!" Sirius growled, "kid, get back here!" he yelled as the muggle took off, running past the line of stationary cars. Sirius turned in time to see Harry throw open the door and scramble out, bolting behind the muggle, "Harry!" he screamed, "no! Harry, come back, Harry!"

But Harry ignored him, focusing only on the dark shape of the muggle, who was jumping on top of car bonnets and leaping from car to car, in an effort to get away. Harry raced behind him, closing the gap of two cars between them with each passing moment. Finally he got near enough and he tackled him, throwing himself bodily into the boy's back, succeeding in knocking him to the ground.

A few cars honked and beeped at them, but Harry was far past caring. He scrambled to sit on top of the boy, straddling him before he drew back his fist and punched. One, two, three, Harry kept punching and the boy lay there, taking the hits, head lolling to one side and the other from the force of the hits. Blood from the boy's nose smeared Harry's knuckles, but Harry kept hitting, lost in his anger. When the loud crack of the boy's nose finally breaking rang around him, Harry stopped. He looked down at the bloodied face of the boy, who was still conscious but could do no more than lie there, dazed and in pain. Chest heaving, Harry lifted himself off.

Harry wiped his blood-stained hand down the leg of his jeans and stepped back. He bent low and picked up the stuffed toy from where the muggle had dropped it and turned to walk away.

"W-where you g-goin'?"

Harry stopped and turned around, glaring at the boy who had picked himself up and was now standing unsteadily on his feet.

"Huh? Where y-you goin'?" he asked again, ignorant of the way the blood ran down his lip and chin.

Harry just shook his head, figuring the boy must be unhinged in some way. He started walking away.

"Hey! Hey you!" the muggle called after him, "is that it? Is that a-all you got?"

Harry ignored him.

"Hey! Get back here!"

The sound of heavy running feet before a shove in the back of his shoulders had Harry thrown to the ground.

"Think you can mouth off to me!" the boy growled, "come on, get up!"

Harry leapt back onto his feet but this time the muggle was ready. A brutal punch from the sixteen year old had Harry staggering to the side. Harry blinked away the pain and turned back, hands thrown up to block the oncoming fist. He knocked away the muggle's clenched hands and struck out with one of his own, catching the boy square on the chin. While standing, the muggle was too tall for Harry to take face shots but he still managed a few.

Staggering back from another hit, the muggle reached into his pocket and pulled out a short knife. Harry stilled, eyes sharpening at the sight of the blade.

"Come on, you little shit!" the boy spat, blood dripping freely down his lip and chin. "Come and get it!"

He swiped at Harry, aiming to cut across his torso but Harry dodged the strike. Another attempt and Harry almost got caught. At the third, Harry dodged around him, grabbing a hold of the knife wielding hand. He twisted behind the boy, taking the arm with him, bending it at an unnatural angle. With all his strength, Harry pulled back and up, and a loud crack echoed in the night.

The muggle screamed and fell to his knees, the blade dropping like a stone from his limp grip. Harry kicked and the boy fell, face-forward, howling in pain. Harry picked up the knife and raised it, his other hand grabbed a fistful of the boy's jacket and he pulled him onto his back. The boy's eyes held no fear as Harry brought the knife down.

It was what stopped Harry, the dirty blade a mere inch away from the boy's chest. The absence of fear from the eyes of the victim. It wasn't right. The muggle should be afraid, but he wasn't. He should fear death, but he obviously didn't.

There were only two times the absence of fear could make sense. Firstly if the victim was not of sound mind, and therefore didn't understand the concept of death, so why would they fear it? And secondly, if the victim couldn't _control_ their emotions.

Harry's eyes widened as he noticed, for the first time, the glazed eyes of the muggle. He looked up from the boy, his gaze darting from one car to the next, at the horrified faces of the passengers watching him. His gaze stopped on a blond haired man, standing on his far right, half hidden behind a parked caravan. Harry dropped the knife as he met Lucius Malfoy's unmistakable grey eyes. Lucius held the gaze, his expression cold and unreadable. Harry looked down at the muggle in his grip and realised what was going on.

The muggle was under a spell, most likely the Imperius.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand. Mindful of the watching eyes of muggles in their cars, Harry concealed it the best he could under his sleeve and muttered a quiet, 'Finite Incantatem.' At once, the boy's eyes cleared and it was as if he were drowning in fear. He scrambled away from Harry, pleading with him.

"P-please! Please, n-no! Don't, please! P-please!"

Harry just sat where he was, stunned at what had happened. The muggle had been under the Imperius curse. He was cursed by Lucius to do what? Provoke him? Pick a fight with him? But why? The answer came to Harry just as three adults and a little boy ran onto the scene.

"Harry!"

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry's wand was wrenched out of his fingers and went flying straight into the waiting grip of Sirius Black. Harry looked up in a mix of anger and surprise. His mum, dad, Damien and Sirius were all running towards him as the petrified muggle teenager scrambled away, clutching his broken arm to his chest, still pleading for mercy. Harry turned back to the parked caravan but Lucius Malfoy had disappeared, just like Harry knew he would.

xxx

"What were you thinking? Running off like that!" James asked, "what if that boy had a weapon? Or a gang of boys waiting around the corner? What would you have done? Harry? Harry! I'm asking you something!"

Harry looked up from his seat in the living room, barely meeting the angry hazel gaze before dropping his stare to the carpet again.

"I'm listening." he mumbled.

"Don't," James warned, "don't get cheeky with me."

"Alright, Prongs," Sirius held out a hand, "just calm down."

"Calm down?" James turned to him, "Sirius, he hexed a muggle! And you want me to _calm down?_"

"I didn't hex him." Harry objected.

"I saw you, Harry. I saw you with your wand in hand and I saw the state that boy was in." James paused, breathing heavily, as if he had been running, "what in Merlin's name did you do to him?"

Harry didn't reply.

When his dad and the rest had reached him in the circus' car park, Harry had already dropped the knife. All his dad saw was the bloodied state of the whimpering muggle boy and the wand that Sirius had disarmed from Harry's hand. There was only one conclusion James could come to and Harry didn't correct him. He found he didn't have it in him to explain to his parents that he knew how to beat up the muggle like a common street thug. Even his father Voldemort didn't know he knew muggle duelling...

The door clicked open and Lily walked in, rousing Harry out of his train of thought.

"Damien's settled, finally," she announced, "he was still pretty worked up, took me ages to calm him down." she stood before Harry, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, "seems like that muggle boy and you gave him quite a fright."

Harry didn't meet her gaze either.

"What were you thinking?" she echoed her husband's words, "you don't run off like that, chasing after bullies."

"Yeah, you leave that to me," Sirius said, but he was grinning, unlike the other two adults, "I know how to take care of bullies."

Again, Harry didn't say anything and continued to sit, staring at the carpet.

"I asked you to leave your wand at home, did I not?" Lily asked.

Harry nodded.

"So why did you disobey me?"

Harry shrugged.

"Don't know."

James stepped closer.

"That's not good enough, Harry," he said, "if you're going to disobey us, you're going to have to give us a good reason."

"Prongs, come on, give the boy a break." Sirius said, quietly.

But James ignored him.

"Your wand's not registered is it?" he asked, "that's why you can use it without the Ministry being alerted."

Harry gave a brief nod.

There was a moment of silence in which the adults exchanged looks over the ten year old, sitting quietly.

"Hand over your wand." James said, extending a hand.

Harry snapped his head up.

"What?"

"Your wand," James repeated, "hand it over."

"Why?" Harry asked, a tremble in his voice gave away his fear.

"Why?" James asked, voice rising with anger, "because you attacked a muggle today, that's why!"

"He attacked us first."

"I don't care," James replied, "there are hundreds of ways to deal with such a situation but hexing them until they are badly bleeding and have broken bones, isn't one of them!"

"I agree," Sirius added, "by the way, what spell did you use?" Sirius asked Harry.

"Sirius, shut-up!" James snapped, "stop belittling this!"

"I'm not," Sirius shrugged, "I was just curious. That was some serious damage he dished out."

James turned back to Harry.

"Your wand, Harry."

Harry stared up at him, fear crawling down his spine, immobilising him.

"What are you going to do to it?" he asked.

James' eyes softened, just a fraction.

"I'm not going to snap it," he reassured, "I'll keep it safe, for now. Once you're eleven and ready for your first wand, I'll give it back, after registering it of course."

Harry didn't believe him.

"You won't destroy it?"

"No, of course not," James replied, "but you've shown today that you can't be trusted with a wand. So I'm taking it from you until you are the appropriate age."

"Which is a non-existent number," Sirius put in, winking at Harry, "I'm still not mature enough to handle my wand."

"Sirius!" Lily snapped at him.

"Just trying to lighten the atmosphere." Sirius muttered.

Harry tried his best to ignore him.

"Come on, Harry," James held out his hand.

"Dad-"

"You could have kept your wand if you had listened to your mum and left it behind like you were asked to do," James said, "now, you have to pay the price."

Trying his best to suppress the horrendous memories that came at his dad's last three words, Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand. He felt the smooth wooden stick in his hands for the last time before handing it over to his dad.

James pocketed the wand quickly.

"Thank you," he said, "handing in your wand is only the start," he explained, "you have to learn not to disobey us and you must understand that you can never, _never_ get away with using magic against a muggle. If your wand was registered, we would have had the Ministry at our doorstep and believe me Harry, they would snap your wand in a heartbeat." James saw the spark of fear in Harry's eyes and his heart ached, despite how angry he was with him, "your mum will decide the rest of your punishment."

Harry couldn't help but flinch at that word but James misunderstood the reaction.

"You did something wrong, so you have to be punished, Harry," he said, "how else will you learn?"

Harry didn't reply. He was too busy keeping the contents of his stomach down.

"I think you're getting a little carried away," Sirius interrupted, "he was only defending himself."

"He hexed a muggle," James repeated, "I had to heal that sixteen year old boy and then obliviate him," he shook his head, "that's not a practise I want to repeat because of something my son's done."

"Yeah, I get that," Sirius said, "but I think you should tone it down a little." he nodded towards Harry, who was sitting with his head lowered, shoulders slumped.

James looked over at Harry before sighing. He ran a hand through his hair.

"Come here." he said to Harry.

Harry got up and walked over, obeying him instantly. James wrapped both arms around Harry, rubbing a hand down his back in a comforting gesture. Harry stiffened.

"I don't like speaking to you like this," James said, pulling away to look Harry in the eyes, "but you acted recklessly. You can't do magic in front of a muggle and you were brandishing a wand in front of a car park full of muggles. Let alone attacking a muggle." he rested both hands on Harry's shoulders, "but the thing I'm most upset about, is that you ran off, head-on into a dangerous situation. What if you got hurt? That muggle boy could have pulled a weapon on you."

Harry didn't say anything but mentally thanked God his dad hadn't noticed the dirty blade when he reached him in the car park.

"I know that you won't like it that we're having to punish you," James said, feeling the tremor run through the ten year old, "but it's necessary, so you learn your lesson."

Harry couldn't bring himself to even nod.

"I have an idea for his punishment," Sirius interrupted, "you can send him over to my place. I have so much that needs to get done, Harry can help me."

"I don't think so," Lily raised an eyebrow, "you just want an excuse to have Harry come over. You won't let him complete any chores."

"I will, I will, promise!" Sirius pouted, "please! I promise I'll be strict!"

Harry closed his eyes, fists clenched tight. James noticed, as well as the way the colour was slowly draining from his face.

"Harry?" he tightened his grip but Harry didn't react.

"I have another idea!" Sirius said, "why don't you have Harry watch a Quidditch game?"

"How is that a punishment?" Lily asked.

"He has to watch but not play. _That _is torture." Sirius explained, "I don't think there's anything quite as painful-"

"Stop it!" Harry suddenly yelled, startling all three adults, "just stop it! Just-stop!"

James' hands were pushed away by the angry boy but his tear-clouded green eyes were fixed on Sirius.

"Harry," Sirius shook his head, "I was only joking-"

"That's all you do!" Harry spat, "make jokes, belittle everything. Not everything's funny!"

"Yeah," Sirius glanced back at James and Lily, still with a lopsided grin, "but your mum and dad know I'm only fooling around. They don't take me seriously," he cracked another wide grin and held up a finger, "see? I just made another one. Seriously? Cause, I'm Sirius? Get it?"

Harry glowered at him.

"Why are you even here?" he asked, "why are you getting involved? This is between me and my parents, between our family, so why are you interfering?"

Sirius stilled, the grin slipped off his face.

"Harry?" James managed to get the word out in a shocked gasp.

"No," Harry shot back, "it's true. He's always here, interfering and forcing himself on us." Harry's shaking hands were balled into fists, so tight, his nails were biting into his skin. "You might be my dad's friend, but you're not mine, so stop acting like it!" he told Sirius, "You're not my friend and you're sure as hell _not_ my family!"

"Harry!" James shouted.

"No," Sirius reached out, stopping James, "no, he's right," he forced a smile, but it was fooling no one, "he's right. I don't know him, and I'm not his friend, not yet. Friendship takes time and me and Harry haven't spent that much time together." his smile faltered and genuine pain flashed in his eyes, "and he's right, I'm-I'm not family."

"Sirius-" James started.

"No, it's okay," Sirius placated, "Harry's right. I'm not a Potter, no matter how much I want to be. So technically, I'm not family." he gave James a tight smile and turned to look at Harry, barely meeting his gaze. " It's late so...I-I better be going."

"Sirius? Sirius, wait-" James reached out, trying to grab onto his arm, but Sirius shrugged him away, still with that forced smile.

"It's okay, I'm okay," he assured in a whisper, "I'll...I'll see you later."

He turned and walked away. He passed Lily but suddenly stopped when she reached out and grabbed his hand. Sirius looked to her but her eyes were fixed on Harry. Slowly, Lily walked over to Harry, bringing Sirius with her. She stopped in front of the boy, her wide green eyes fixed to his.

She pointed a finger at Sirius.

"He's not family?" she asked, "_he's_ not family?" she tightened her grip around Sirius' hand, "if he's not family, Harry, then there's no meaning left in that word."

Sirius turned to stare at her, his expression mimicking James' look of surprise. But Lily only had eyes for her son, who was staring back with the same angry, tear-clouded eyes.

"You have no idea what Sirius has done for this family," Lily continued, "what's he's been through with us. When you were taken from us, my own sister didn't care enough to come and see me. Do you know what she did?" she asked, her voice breaking, "she sent me a card, '_Sorry for your loss'_. My sister, Harry, my family by blood. That's all she did. But Sirius," she shook his arm, "Sirius was here, by our side night and day. He stayed with your dad, stopped him succumbing to his grief. He was here for me, gave me strength and support. That's what family does, Harry, it stays by your side, tall and strong no matter what you're going through."

Harry didn't say anything, but his gaze flickered to Sirius.

"I know that there's a lot you don't know," Lily continued, "but understand one thing; Sirius may not be a Potter or an Evans by blood, but he's a part of our family." She stood tall, green eyes boring down into Harry, "and no one talks to their family like you just did. Apologise to Sirius."

"Lily, no, it's okay-" Sirius started.

"You had no right speaking to Sirius like that. Apologise, please." Lily repeated, ignoring Sirius' protests.

Harry glanced once to Sirius before meeting Lily's eyes.

"I didn't say anything wrong," he said, "so I'm not apologising."

He turned around and walked out of the room.

"Harry! Harry!" Lily shouted behind him.

"Lily, it's okay," Sirius calmed her, "he's only a kid. He's mad, just let him be. It's okay. I didn't mind anything he said. He's my Godson, he can say what he likes if it makes him feel better."

"No, it's not right, Sirius." Lily argued.

"It's fine," Sirius said, "no harm done."

"I'm sorry," she said, "I apologise on Harry's behalf."

"Don't," Sirius pulled her into his embrace, "it's okay, really, it's okay."

James stood behind them, staring at the door through which Harry had walked out off.

_'It's not okay,'_ he realised, _'it's not okay at all.'_

xxx

A soft knock before James opened the door. He walked in to see Harry sitting by the window. He hadn't even changed his clothes yet. Harry looked around at him, met his eyes for a moment and then looked away, staring out the window again.

James walked further inside and closed the door with a quiet click.

"Not going to get changed tonight?" he asked.

Harry shrugged.

"Is that what you want?" he asked, "for me to change."

James sighed and walked over. He dragged the chair away from the desk and settled it next to Harry, before taking a seat.

"No son, I don't want you to change," he said, "I just want you to start listening to me," Harry didn't look at him, but kept his head turned, eyes aimlessly staring at the sight outside. "I know why you acted the way you did with that muggle boy. You ran after him because you had that wand in your pocket." Harry looked around at him, meeting his dad's eyes, "I already know how advanced you are at duelling and I can imagine how confident you must've been to chase after a boy almost twice the size of you." James leaned forward, "and that's precisely why I didn't want you to have your wand with you. Having a wand in your pocket can give you a false sense of security. If that boy knocked the wand from your hand or Merlin forbid he had a weapon on him, you could have gotten hurt." he reached out to caress Harry's cheek, "believe me, Harry, that's the thing that's bothering me the most and the reason why I have to make sure you will never do it again."

Harry didn't say anything but dropped his gaze.

"Of course, now there's two things I want to ensure you never do again; risk your safety and insult Sirius." James added.

"It wasn't an insult. It was the truth." Harry objected at once, looking up at him, "is Sirius a Potter by blood?"

"No."

"Is he an Evans?"

"No."

"Then he's not family."

James smiled.

"Family doesn't end with blood," he said, "and like your mum's example showed, sometimes friends that are like family are more loyal than family by blood."

Harry didn't say anything.

"It's not your fault," James sighed, "you've not been around Sirius enough to understand what he's really like. Truth is, he's like a big kid. He can get on your nerves if you're not in the mood and I know that he irritated you tonight." he leaned forward, "but I won't tolerate you speaking to anyone like that, let alone my best friend. When you see him on Monday, you will apologise."

"Why am I seeing him on Monday?" Harry asked, ignoring the order for apology.

"Because your mum and I decided that you'll spend time at Sirius' home, carrying out specific duties as your punishment."

Harry didn't reply but his eyes grew cold.

"That way, you'll get to spend time with Sirius, who happens to be your Godfather," James continued, "and you will carry out chores for him as a reprimand for what you did today."

Harry gave a stiff nod and dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Harry?"

He looked up.

"Please don't look at me like that." James said.

"Like what?" he bit back.

"Like I'm your worst enemy."

Harry diverted his gaze. If his dad ever found out how many years he grew up thinking exactly that...

"I know that you're mad at me, but-"

"I'm not mad," Harry interrupted, "I'm just...tired."

James paused for a moment before nodding.

"Yes, it is rather late," he got up from the chair, "you should get to bed. It's been a long day."

Harry nodded again.

James reached out and ruffled Harry's hair.

"Good night."

"Night." Harry returned stiffly.

James paused again, looking like he wanted to stay and talk but he turned to the door, bidding Harry goodnight once more before leaving.

Harry stayed next to the window, head rested against the wall, his mind fixed on this evenings happenings. He had lost control, something he had promised himself he wouldn't do. But listening to Sirius and his parents talking so casually about punishing him just pushed him over the edge. He knew, at the back of his mind, that the punishments set by his mum wouldn't be anything like the punishments he used to get. His dad wasn't going to beat him, his mum wasn't going to starve him and Sirius wasn't going to stand back and ridicule him, poke fun at him as he suffered. He knew it was going to be mundane chores, probably tiring but not harmful in any way but still, he lost his temper and he yelled at Sirius.

Truth was, he was angry and frustrated, but not at Sirius, not completely. It was what he had seen at the circus; the grey-eyed man with the long blond pony tail, sheltered behind the caravan, watching him, waiting for him to _kill_. Harry's stomach lurched again as realisation settled deep inside him. Lucius had set him up and he almost fell for it. He had been moments away from killing that muggle.

Harry got up, shaking his head. He wouldn't think about it, not anymore. He was going to keep his wits about him from now on, be on the lookout for more of his father's men, trying to mess him up. He wasn't going to fall for any tricks, He rubbed at his arm, his right side painfully cold as it had been resting against the window through which late January's cold had seeped in and almost frozen him. Harry walked over to his dresser and opened it, rummaging through it for a plain pair of pyjamas. His mum had bought him a large collection of Quidditch related pyjamas and others that had famous wizards' faces printed on them. Harry preferred simple plain ones.

He found a set of deep maroon ones and he pulled them out. He was about to shut the drawer when something shiny caught his eye. Harry stopped, eyes narrowed at the strange object lying at the bottom of his drawer. He reached in and picked up the coin, staring at it from both sides. He couldn't believe it. It was the Talisman the Gypsy had given him; bronze, no bigger than a Galleon, with that strange engraving etched on both sides and a two-headed serpent in the middle.

Harry stared at it. He had thrown it away, moments after the Gypsy walked away. How did the Talisman end up here? In his drawer? At the precise moment, Harry didn't care how it ended up here. All he cared about was to get the thing out.

Harry walked over to the window, opened it and flung the coin out. It landed in a melted ice puddle on the street below with a faint plop. The street light cast enough of a glow that Harry could see the ripples caused by the coin in the puddle. He closed his window and walked over to his still open drawer to shut it.

His hand froze mid-action when he caught the glint from the bronze coin lying at the bottom of his drawer again. Harry reached in and lifted it out, feeling it against his fingers, proving to himself that it was really there. He walked over to the window and looked out at the street below, at the puddle he had just thrown the coin into. The water was still and calm.

Harry pulled away, lifting up the Talisman to stare at it in mounting confusion. What was going on? Why did the stupid thing keep coming back to him. Or was he going mad and this was all his imagination?

Harry had enough, he'd had a horrid enough day, he didn't have the energy to worry about something else. He flung the coin across the room. It rolled forward before coming to a stop, next to the leg of his desk.

Harry got changed and hurried into his bed. He reached across to switch off the light, but his gaze darted to the corner, where his desk was. He looked down next to the leg and saw nothing there. His gaze flitted over to his dresser. He didn't need to get up to check. He knew the Talisman would be in there, waiting for him.

xxx

Monday arrived far too quickly for Harry's liking. Straight after breakfast, Harry was sent upstairs to change into casual robes and as soon as he reappeared in a pair of soft blue robes, he was being ushered to the floo.

"Come along, Harry." James said.

"You coming too?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I thought I would join you." James replied.

"Great." Harry groaned.

He didn't want his dad there, watching him as he completed chores around Sirius Black's home. It was too close to his childhood memories, although it was the other way around. Sirius used to come over and watch James and Lily humiliate him._ 'Not them, it wasn't them, get a grip!' _he mentally scolded himself.

"You ready, Harry?" James asked.

"Yeah." Harry headed towards the fireplace and stepped in.

James stepped in after him and threw in a handful of floo powder. Green flames erupted and James and Harry were flooed out of Godric's Hollow and straight into the main parlour of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

xxx

Harry and James stepped out of the parlour and into the narrow hallway. Harry glanced around, taking in the sight of the house. He frowned at the décor, the severed heads of house elves hanging on the walls in particular. He followed his dad to the kitchen and stepped in to find Sirius wasn't alone. Remus was here too and both men were sitting at the table, half-filled glasses in their hands.

Sirius turned at the sound of the door and smiled. His gaze flitted past James and rested on Harry.

"Ah! You're here!" he said, getting to his feet.

Harry shifted awkwardly from one foot to the next. He wasn't quite sure how to talk to Sirius now, after having a go at him. But Sirius was acting like that conversation never happened.

"I was wondering when you'd come." he said.

"I told you we'd be here for ten and we're here." James replied.

"I guess I was just being impatient." Sirius smiled. He looked at Harry. "How have you been, Harry?"

"Fine." Harry replied.

"Good, good." Sirius nodded, "right," he clapped his hands, "you ready?"

"To do chores?" Harry asked, "as ready as I can be." he shrugged.

Sirius grinned.

"Don't worry, Harry," he said, "you won't mind these chores, I promise."

xxx

Sirius led Harry upstairs while James and Remus stayed in the kitchen. Harry peered at the strange empty house with interest. He had never imagined Sirius Black would live in such a house; dark and strangely vacant.

"In here," Sirius opened a door and Harry followed him inside. He stopped at the sight, "what'd you think?" Sirius asked, grinning.

Harry walked in, staring at the mounds and mounds of sweets heaped on the floor like mini mountains. He saw an assortment of every kind of confectionery known to wizardkind; Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, Chocolate Frogs, packets of Lemon Drops, Acid Pops, Cockroach Clusters, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Fizzing Whizbees, Jelly Slugs, Liquorice Wands, Sugar Quills, Pumpkin Pasties and Cauldron Cakes.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, "what's all this?"

"This," Sirius started with a dramatic undertone, "is your chore. You have to taste every single item here and judge it for me."

"Judge?"

"Yeah, it's actually for my mate, the bloke down at Honeydukes in Hogsmeade. He has all this merchandise but some of it may be out of date. You will help me separate these into two piles; the 'still good' and the 'gone bad'."

Harry stared at him.

"This is my punishment?" he asked.

"Yep," Sirius grinned, "it's a good one, isn't it?"

"How is sitting around, eating sweets all day a punishment?"

"Trust me, after your fourth box of every favour beans and tenth cauldron cake, you'll be begging to stop."

Harry eyed him.

"You really need to separate these into two piles?"

"Yep." Sirius nodded, but his eyes were gleaming with mischief.

"And there's nothing funny in them, I mean nothing is spiked with potions?"

"Ah!" Sirius' grin got wider, "you'll just have to wait, test and see."

Harry walked over and sat down next to one pile, eyeing it like it were something truly horrid.

"Get started, Harry."

Harry looked around at Sirius.

"I don't have much of a sweet-tooth." he confessed.

Something flickered across Sirius' face, stealing the smile from his lips and clouding his bright blue eyes.

"Well," he started, the strain notable in his voice, "I guess you have nine years worth of sweets to catch up with."

Harry turned back to face the sweets. It was true. His father Voldemort never gave him sweets. Up until now, Harry had never even noticed that fact.

xxx

"Have another one, Harry."

"I can't," Harry groaned, lying flat out on his back, "I'm stuffed!"

"Now, now, you have to complete your punishment." Sirius said in a overly exaggerated bossy voice.

"You were right, this is a punishment," Harry pushed himself to sit up and grabbed another cauldron cake."

"Whoa, whoa!" Sirius held out a hand, "I was only joking. If you've had enough then stop. I don't want you getting sick."

Harry flopped back to lie down, grateful and strangely tired.

"I feel sleepy." he confessed.

"Then go to sleep." Sirius replied.

Harry shook his head.

"Don't wanna."

Sirius chuckled.

"Alright, you want to call it a day? You can come back tomorrow."

With great effort, Harry pushed himself up and onto his feet.

"We're doing this again, tomorrow?" he asked.

"Yep, until we've tested every product."

Harry nodded and started walking towards the door, rubbing at his full stomach. He stopped next to the door.

"It's a really good idea you got," he said, "having me test all the sweets for your friend."

"I know, I'm a genius, right?" Sirius replied, happily munching through a Pumpkin Pastry.

"There's only one thing I don't get," Harry said, reaching out to open the door, "if we eat all the products, how can we sort them into two piles?"

Sirius stopped mid-bite, eyes wide.

Harry smiled.

"Bye, Sirius."

Sirius swallowed his mouthful and smiled.

"Bye champ."

xxx

The rest of the week went by in the same fashion. James took Harry to Sirius' home every day and Sirius came up with weird and wonderful ideas for punishments, which in fact were not punishments at all. By the end of the week, Harry had tasted several exquisite meals, allegedly for another 'friend' of Sirius', decorated and arranged a 'play room' which Harry suspected was being set up for him and Damien and even serviced four of Sirius' broomsticks so they were in excellent shape for a promised Quidditch match on the first dry day of February.

"Have you tried your new broomstick yet?" Sirius asked as he packed away the gleaming broomsticks Harry had spent almost two days servicing.

"Not yet," Harry replied, "dad's real excited for our first game, but it's either been raining or it's been too cold and mum won't let us play until it's safe."

"Lily's overly cautious," Sirius waved a hand, "we'll play soon. I can't wait to see you on that broom. I bet you'll handle it like a dream."

Harry only smiled back before running a hand through his hair.

"You done?" he asked as Sirius pushed the four broomstick cases under the bed and stood up.

"Yeah, let's go."

They headed downstairs. When they stepped into the kitchen, Harry was surprised to see two visitors. Aurors Moody and Pudmore were sitting at the kitchen table, deep in conversation with James and Remus. They turned around and both newcomers locked their eyes on the ten year old.

"You guys done?" James asked, rising from the table.

"Yeah," Sirius replied distractedly, "what are you two doing here? There's not a meeting today, is there?" he asked Moody and Pudmore.

"Dumbledore just set one up," Sturgis replied, "it seems rather urgent."

"Can't be good then," Moody added in his gruff voice. His eyes scanned Harry from head to foot. "Alright, Potter? How've you been? Not been waving that wand around have you?"

James behind Moody gave Harry a quick panicked look, shaking his head.

"No," Harry replied, "not met a worthy adversary yet."

Moody chuckled.

"Cute kid," he muttered as he stomped past him, "get him home, the meeting starts in ten minutes." he called back to James as he walked out.

James clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder and led him towards the fireplace.

"Come on, let's go."

Harry turned and started walking towards the fireplace.

"Dad, what meeting was he talking about?" Harry asked, looking back as Sturgis conversed in whispers with Remus and Sirius.

"Order meeting," James gestured for Harry to step into the fireplace while he opened the jar and took out a handful of floo powder, "Sirius gave up his home to Dumbledore. It's the Headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix now."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. James saw his reaction and his heart missed a beat.

"You know about the Order?"

"Yeah," Harry answered quietly "I know about the Order."

James looked at him for a moment before nodding tightly.

"Of course you do." he muttered.

He threw in the fistful of floo powder and called out for Godric's Hollow, before the two of them disappeared in a great eruption of green flames.

xxx

Days turned to weeks and before long, the end of February approached. The weather was just as wet and miserable but day-by-day, the winter chill died down. But Lily still insisted Harry and Damien wore their fur lined cloaks and hats before they stepped outside.

"I don't get it," Harry grumbled, "why can't we just floo to Sirius'?"

"Because I want to use the front door sometimes." Lily replied, adjusting Damien's hat, "otherwise, Sirius will forget how to open a door."

Harry pulled a face but he didn't argue any further. He fussed with his buttons some more until all of them were properly fastened. James walked in, carrying the round dish of Lily's homemade carrot cake.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yep, all set to go." Lily said, running a hand down Damien's cloak before straightening up and draping her own cloak around her shoulders.

"Shall we?" James offered his arm.

"We shall." Lily smiled, taking it.

Harry groaned.

"Please, can we go already?"

Damien giggled and practically raced to the front door.

"Chase me, Harry!" he called behind him.

"What for?" Harry asked, but two steps later he couldn't help himself and he chased after the giggling seven year old, while James and Lily walked behind, smiling at the antics of their sons.

xxx

Lily rang the doorbell to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Quick footsteps could be heard from the inside before a smiling Sirius opened the door.

"Hello Potters!" he greeted.

"Sirius." Lily returned. She walked in, her husband and sons trailing in after her. "I can see you're dressed for the occasion."

Sirius ran a hand down his formal robes.

"It's a dinner party, Lily-flower. I'm the host so I have to look my best."

"Host?" Lily held up the carrot cake tin, "so how come the rest of us are stuck cooking?"

"That's your own choice," Sirius replied, "I offered to cook."

"That's okay Padfoot," James interrupted "I don't fancy your half-cooked sausages and eggs for dinner."

"Suit yourself." Sirius smirked. "Boys!" he held out both arms, into which Damien wasted no time leaping into.

"Uncle Siri!" he greeted.

Harry only nodded at him.

"Sirius."

"Harry," Sirius nodded back, "come on in, guess whose been waiting impatiently for you?"

He led the Potters to the kitchen, which was rather busy today. Harry walked in to find the red-haired Molly Weasley standing at the stove, her husband was next to her side, sipping on wine and nodding along to whatever it was Frank Longbottom was saying. Alice Longbottom was taking something, it looked like rice, out of a container and spilling it into a glass dish. Next to her Remus was doing the same, but he was transferring grilled chicken from the pan into a serving dish. At the table was Ron and Ginny Weasley playing exploding snap with Neville Longbottom.

They all looked around at the door as Sirius brought the Potters in with him.

"Harry! Damy!" Ron leapt out of his seat, Ginny and Neville did the same and the trio raced to their side.

"Just in time, Lily." Alice smiled, walking over to greet her friend. "Molly's just finished with her soup."

"I was just reheating it." Molly offered, hurrying over to kiss Lily on the cheek in greeting. "The table's all set. Lily, could you seat the kids at their table?"

"Of course."

Lily led the chattering five into the dining room, where there was a small table set up next to the large one.

The five took their seats, Ron and Neville sat on either side of Harry, while Damien and Ginny sat across from him.

"How've you been, Harry?" Neville asked.

"Fine," Harry replied, "you?"

"Not bad," he leaned closer to him, dropping his voice so the adults carrying in the dishes of food, couldn't overhear him, "I've been dying to see you. What happened that day? After you went home from my dad's birthday?"

Harry shook his head.

"Nothin' really," he replied, "my dad asked me about what kind of spells I could do and we had a mini duel outside in our garden, but that's about it."

"You can duel?" Ron asked, so surprised his eyebrows hid under his ginger bangs.

"Yeah." Harry shrugged.

"Your dad's so cool," Neville said, "my dad would have flipped out if I pointed a wand at Moody."

Harry looked around at Frank, who was sitting at the table with the rest of the adults, busy piling food onto his plate.

"He seems pretty cool too." Harry replied.

"Looks can be deceiving." Neville grinned.

Harry looked down at his plate. He agreed, looks could be very deceiving. To the world, he seemed just like any other boy, ten years old, still a child. But Harry knew what he was. He knew what he had done, and that left him like no other ten year old boy and no longer a child.

xxx

Dinner would have been a pleasant affair, with the kids at one table, laughing and joking around while their parents did the same at their table, if it wasn't for Harry's scar. It started burning just as Harry finished his food. He tried ignoring it, forcing himself to pay his full attention to Ron as he retold what pranks his older twin brothers claimed to have done at Hogwarts in their last letter. But try as he might, he couldn't block the pain out.

Ever since he came back to his parents, his scar had prickled at odd times. With the exception of his first day, the pain never got to the point where he was in extreme pain. But today, it seemed his father Voldemort was in a towering temper because the pain in his scar continued to peak, until Harry couldn't pretend anymore.

He got up, muttering to Neville about going to the bathroom. He knew his parents must have looked up at him as he got up, and as hard as he tried, he couldn't keep himself from reaching up to rub at his aching scar.

It was a mistake and Harry regretted it instantly.

"Harry?"

His dad called him from behind but Harry ignored him, focusing his fast blurring vision to the door, so he could get out. He heard a chair scraping the floor and his dad's worried voice,

"Harry? Harry?"

"He's going to the bathroom." Neville informed but it didn't stop James.

Harry stumbled into the hallway, one hand clutching at his scar and the other against the wall, bracing himself to stay upright. The pain was getting worse, the ache peaked until it became the dreaded stabbing pain that elicited a strangled cry from his lips. Harry stopped and pressed the heel of both palms into his forehead but it did nothing to the pain.

"Harry!"

His dad had him in his arms in one sudden move.

"Harry? What-? What's wrong? Harry? What's happening to you?"

"D-dad!" Harry gasped as his knees gave out under him and he crumpled in his dad's embrace.

"Harry? Harry!"

His dad's panicked calling of his name and the sound of several hurried footsteps were the last things Harry heard before he lost consciousness.

xxx

When Harry opened his eyes, it was to see the pale and worried faces of his parents looming over him. He groaned and held his head, trying to ease the thumping headache.

"What happened?" he asked, as he sat up in bed, which he realised right away wasn't his own.

"You collapsed." Lily replied. She reached out and held onto him, "what happened?"

It came back to him like a tidal wave. His scar had hurt. It had hurt while he was sitting with his family and their friends. He quickly straightened up, swinging both legs off the bed.

"I don't know," he pretended, "I just felt...really sick all of a sudden."

"Stop lying, Harry," James said quietly, "I was watching you. You didn't feel sick. You held your head, as if in pain." he stared at Harry, holding his green gaze. "It's that scar, isn't it?"

Harry felt as if the bottom of his stomach just fell out. He stared at James.

"What?"

"The scar, the one on your forehead." James said, "it's a curse scar, isn't it?"

Harry shook his head.

"James?" Lily was looking at him with wide green eyes, "what are you talking about?"

"The Healer at St Mungos mentioned it, that day he went in for his check up after the Diagon Alley attack," James said, but his eyes stayed on Harry, "she said it could be just a scar, but if it hurts, then it could be a curse scar." his eyes bore deep into Harry's, refusing to break his gaze, "your scar hurts, doesn't it Harry?"

Harry couldn't lie. Not when looking his dad straight in the eye.

Slowly, nervously, he nodded his head.

James closed his eyes, his jaw clenched tight. A hand came up to cradle his head.

"No," Lily was shaking her head, "no, but...curse scars...they-they can be dangerous."

Harry remained quiet, just staring at his dad. James lifted up his head and turned to look at Harry, with fierce hazel eyes.

"Was it...Voldemort?"

Harry felt his heart leap at the sound of his father's name. He thought about it every day, but hadn't heard it spoken out loud in weeks.

Hesitantly, he nodded again.

James suddenly leapt to his feet with a snarl, fists clenched into tight balls.

"That son-of-a-bitch!" he spat, pacing the floor, "that son-of-a-_bitch!_"

"James." Lily objected weakly, tears thick in her voice.

Harry watched with quiet eyes as James paced the floor, his hands tearing through his own hair.

"I'm gonna kill him!" he muttered, "I'm going to kill that bastard!" he turned suddenly to Harry, eyes wide and filled with panic. "Don't you worry, Harry don't you worry. I'm going to get rid of that curse-scar. We'll go to a specialist Healer and they'll find a way to get rid of it."

"Dad," Harry said quietly, "it's okay. I don't need to see a Healer."

James stood stock still.

"What?" he asked, "of course you need to see a Healer," he said "we need to find a way to get rid of that thing!"

"You can't," Harry replied, "it's not going to disappear."

"How can you know that?" James asked. He walked over to sit next to him, "tell me about it, everything about it, when does it hurt?"

Harry shook his head, closing his eyes tight.

"Dad, don't. I don't want to talk about it."

"You have to talk about it!" James insisted. "The more information the Healers have, the better they can help."

"No one can do anything to help." Harry said, his voice rising. He got up, too angry to stay seated. "I have a curse scar, given to me by _Lord Voldemort._ There's nothing anyone can do about it!"

"You don't know that for sure." James said.

"I do!" Harry yelled, "and even if there is a way to get rid of it. I don't want to be _studied_ and _experimented_ on by some Healer!"

"It won't be like that," James said, "I'm not going to let anyone do anything to you. We'll find a specialist-"

"No, dad. I don't want to see any kind of a Healer."

"You just collapsed because of your scar hurting!" James replied, "If the pain is that intense that it knocked you out, then you have to get it checked. It could be...it could be dangerous for you."

"It's not dangerous." Harry argued.

"How can you know that?" Lily asked.

"Because I know, okay? I've had this scar ever since I met him and the pain is actually much worse if I'm close to him." Harry revealed.

James' eyes widened before his face crumpled and he dropped his head into his hands.

"You're getting worried for no reason," Harry tried to explain, "My scar hurts every now and again. And if he's feeling particularly happy or angry, my scar plays up a little. But it's always been like that. It's not dangerous. I've lived with him for six years and nothing _'dangerous'_ has happened so the chances of-"

He stopped as James looked up at him with wide, shocked eyes.

"What?" Harry asked, confused at his dad's reaction.

"Nine," James said quietly, "you've been with him, nine years."

It was as if someone had downed Harry with ice cold water. He stood stock still.

"R-right," he forced the word out, "nine, yeah, that's what I meant, nine years."

"You said, six," James said, "you said you lived with him for six years."

"I meant nine," Harry insisted, "I-I got my scar when I was four, so-so six came out instead of nine."

But James wasn't fooled.

"Harry?" he got up and crossed the few steps to reach him. He held onto Harry's arms, "what's going on?" he asked, "why did you say you lived with Voldemort for six years."

"It's...I...I told you..." Harry struggled to come up with something, anything that could cover up his slip. "I...I...my scar-"

"Harry?" James pulled him closer, his voice dropped to a trembling whisper.

Harry tried pulling himself free but his dad's grip was too tight. Lily joined James' side, her eyes wide and fearful, fixed on Harry.

"Harry, what's going on?"

Harry looked from her to James and felt a strange burning in his eyes.

"Don't," he pleaded quietly, "please, don't do this. Don't dig up the past, it'll ruin everything."

James reached up to cup Harry's cheek.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Please, dad. Just drop it. Forget what I said, please."

"I can't do that," James replied, "Harry, please-"

A knock on the door interrupted them.

"James? Is Harry okay?" Sirius' voice came from behind the closed door, "are you still planning on taking him to St Mungos?"

Harry pulled himself free and walked over to the door. He pulled it open just as Sirius raised his fist to knock again.

"Harry?" Sirius looked surprised, "you okay, kiddo? You scared the life out of me."

"I'm fine." Harry replied.

Sirius looked past him, at the two pale-faced parents. He looked back at Harry.

"Everything okay?"

Harry glanced back at his parents, meeting his dad's eyes.

"Everything's okay." he repeated.

James shook his head.

"Harry-"

"We should go downstairs." Harry interrupted, "we've still to have dessert."

xxx

As soon as Harry walked back inside the dining room, everyone crowded around him, asking him if he was okay and what had happened to him. James and Lily followed him back in, still ashen-faced and worried. They sat down at the table but refused to tell anyone what had happened.

"He just collapsed," Harry heard his mum tell Molly and Alice, "I think we're going to go now, Harry needs to rest."

"Have some coffee before you go," Alice insisted, "you didn't even finish your dinner."

Harry knew his parents couldn't wait to leave, so they could take him home and question him about his slip up. He glanced around at James, to see his dad's suspicious eyes fixed on him. He looked away, breathing out a sigh. He was really in it this time. His dad wasn't going to give up on this one, no matter how much begged.

He racked his mind, trying to figure out what he could say to his parents. He came to the conclusion that the only way he could explain away his slip-up was to tell them he got his scar when he was four, so he's only had his scar for six years. That was why he said six instead of nine years. But he had already tried that and his dad didn't believe him. He swallowed heavily, his slice of carrot cake completely ignored. He would just have to make them believe his story.

"Harry?"

Neville's voice broke Harry out of his thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"You okay?" Neville asked, "you look kind of lost."

"I'm fine." Harry replied. "I just have a headache."

"I know what'll cheer you up," Ron said, "I heard Sirius is getting a playroom ready. He said once it's done, he's gonna let us hang out in there."

Harry smiled.

"I know," he replied, "I helped him set it up."

Ron's eyes bulged out.

"Really?" he asked, "what's it like?"

Harry shrugged.

"Okay." he replied.

"I wanna see it!" Damien said at once.

"Me too!" Ginny added.

"How about it?" Neville asked with a grin, "show us which room it is?"

Harry glanced back at his parents to see both were staring at him.

"Gladly." he sighed.

He got up and the other four followed him out. Harry could feel his parents eyes on him the entire time.

xxx

"Whoa! Cool!" Ron exclaimed as he took in the sight of the large room.

"It's not even finished yet." Harry said.

"What's happening here?" Neville asked, pointing at a large round empty table in the middle of the room.

"Sirius is going to get one of those big novelty chess sets," Harry said, "he's going to put it up here."

"Doll house!" Ginny squealed and ran off to the pink corner.

"He got that just for her." Harry explained.

"And Damy," Ron chuckled, nodding at Damien who was hovering at the edge of the pink corner, eyeing the doll house with clear fascination.

"What else is he getting done?" Neville asked.

"He said he wants a Quidditch corner," Harry said, glad to be distracted from the inevitable talk he was going to have when he returned home, "obviously the room's too small to actually be able to fly, but he was going on about a game with just snitches or something."

"Oh! Snatch the Snitch?" Ron asked at once.

"Yeah, that's the one." Harry replied.

"I would love to play that!" Ron said excitedly.

"He's getting loads of stuff, says it'll be ready by summer." Harry said.

"I can't wait!" Ron grinned. He glanced around the room and noticed the large trunk, tucked away in one corner. "What's in that?" he asked.

"No idea," Harry replied, I never noticed it in here before."

Ron walked over to the peeling red and black trunk and opened the rusted lock. He pulled the top open and staggered back as a great black shape soared out, flying high into the air.

Ginny and Damien screamed at the sight and raced towards the door.

Ron slipped and fell back as the black shape hovered for a moment before coming right at him.

"Ron!" Neville yelled and darted towards him, Harry at his heels.

But the shape suddenly shifted mid-air, transforming rapidly into a large hairy blob, from which eight legs popped out.

Ron shrieked and scrambled backwards.

"Spider! Get away! Get away from me!"

"A Boggart." Harry breathed, "it's only a Boggart."

"How do we get rid of it?" Neville asked.

"It's a spell." Harry replied, "but my dad took away my wand."

"That's what you get for waving it around at Mad-Eye Moody!" Neville snapped.

"Help!" Ron screamed, pushing himself away from the spider, "Neville, help!"

"Ron? What's going on?" Molly came hurrying into the room, the rest of the adults followed in behind her, with a whimpering Ginny and Damien beside them.

"A Boggart!" Alice exclaimed, "How'd that get in there?"

"Hold on, Ron," Arthur pushed his way past, "I'm coming, just stay there."

"I got him, it's okay, I got him." Neville reached Ron and stooped low to help him up.

Ron gathered himself onto his feet, sweaty-faced and near to tears.

The Boggart shifted as soon as Neville crossed it's path but before it could take another form, it suddenly swooped down towards Harry. The Boggart, nothing but a black misty shape landed in front of Harry and slowly started straightening up, taking on a human shape.

"Hold on, Harry," James called, his wand out and pointed at the Boggart.

The Boggart took it's form in front of the crowd and the form it took left everyone, including Harry, gobsmacked.

The Boggart was Harry.

Everyone stood, staring at the Boggart which was a replicate of Harry, just standing there, mirroring everyone's look of confusion. Suddenly, the Boggart-Harry started changing. Harry thought it was changing form again but it wasn't. It stayed as Harry, but he was getting thinner, drastically thinner. Purple marks began appearing on the Boggart-Harry's face, his lip split and a thick gash cut across his left cheekbone. The Boggart-Harry lifted up a hand and held it up, as if examining it. The skin of the hand started changing, turning black, as if badly burned.

"Riddikulus!"

Remus' strong voice shattered the Boggart's form and with a high pitched cry, the shape-shifting creature flew backwards and landed back inside the trunk, locked inside once again.

But for Harry, it was too late. The Boggart had shown, not only him, but everyone in the room, what his worst fear was.

Slowly, Harry turned around and breathing heavily, he met his dad's horrified eyes.

xxx


	9. A Father's Woe

**Disclaimer** I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

**Chapter Nine**

As soon as Harry walked through the door at Godric's Hollow, he hurried to the stairs, taking two at a time until he reached his room. He shut the door behind him with a resounding thud.

James and Lily stood in the hallway, staring after him.

"Come on, Damy." Lily led Damien to the stairs, "let's get you ready for bed." She gave James a look, one that plainly said, _'wait for me'._

James went to the kitchen, pulled out the bottle of Whiskey and poured himself a half glass. He leaned against the worktop and sipped at his drink, hoping the alcohol would help slow down the train of worrying thoughts that were racing in his mind. But the cold knot resting in his stomach only tightened when he recollected all he had seen tonight.

First Harry's scar had hurt, so badly he had collapsed. Then the strange slip-up of Harry's, saying he lived with Voldemort for six years. James closed his eyes, trying his best to come up with a reason that would explain it. He considered it may be something simple, like Voldemort giving Harry to one of his Death Eaters to bring up until he was - he paused – four, yes, Harry would have been four if he had only lived with Voldemort for the last six years. But somehow, that didn't seem right. Why would Voldemort do that? Was it because he didn't – no wait – he _couldn't_ care for a child? James scoffed to himself, taking a large gulp of his drink. Of course Voldemort couldn't care for a child. He didn't know _how_ to care, for anything.

But something at the back of James' mind, the part of him that was an Auror and was trained to pick up on strange observations, told him it was something else. Something more...sinister as to why Harry only lived with Voldemort for six years. Why else would Harry panic like he did? Why else would he beg him not to ask, not to _'dig up the past'?_ Why would he say that if it was just a simple case of him being with another family for three years and then going to live with Voldemort?

And as if that in itself wasn't worrying enough, next came the thing that had made James' blood run cold.

The Boggart. Harry's Boggart. James took another shaky gulp, forcing that image, that horrid, horrid image away. His Harry, hurt, bruised, bleeding...burnt – James took another swig at the Whiskey, willing that image to leave him but all it did was stick in his mind.

Children were afraid of silly things; spiders, clowns, crawlies, some were afraid of threatening things; snakes, dragons, hippogriffs, but Harry's fear didn't make sense. Children shouldn't be afraid of being physically assaulted. It shouldn't even cross their minds. Children should live with a sense of comfort, that they were safe, protected, guarded by their parents and loved ones. Was that it? The reason Harry feared getting hurt? Because he had been taken away from his parents? Because of what happened in Diagon Alley? Because secretly, Harry feared Voldemort was going to come for him, take him away, hurt him?

James' grip tightened on the glass, so much so, it was a miracle the glass didn't break. He drained the glass in one last go and put it down on the worktop, before heading out the door and climbing up the stairs.

xxx

James opened Harry's door to see the room was darkened and Harry was already in bed, facing the wall. James walked in and closed the door.

"Harry?" he called softly.

There was no response.

James walked over and sat down, facing Harry's back. He reached over and switched on the bedside lamp. The soft glow lit up the room, enough for James to see Harry's shoulders lift up slightly.

"I know you're awake," he said quietly, "pretending to sleep isn't going to help."

Harry didn't move.

"Harry?" his hand rested lightly on Harry's shoulder. He felt it tense under his fingers but the child stubbornly lay still with his eyes shut, "talk to me, please?"

Still no response.

With a sigh, James turned away so he was sitting with his back to Harry's. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He dipped his head into his hands and just sat like that.

"I don't know what to do, Harry," he confessed, "I know something's not right. I can see it, almost feel it every time I look at you, but...I can't figure it out." He looked up, gaze aimlessly scanning the room, "I feel so lost. It's like you're right here but I can't get to you. You're still so far away and every day you seem to move further and further away from me and no matter how hard I try, no matter what I do, I...I'm losing you."

He felt the bed shift as Harry turned around. But now, James couldn't turn to face him.

"I've already lost you once, Harry," he whispered, "please, don't let me lose you again."

"You won't."

James turned at Harry's quiet reply, to see the child's big green eyes fixed on him.

"I feel like I already have." James said, "you're not here, not all of you. A part of you, a big part, is left behind."

Harry dropped his gaze, hands tightening around his covers.

"Dad-"

"Be honest," James cut across, "please, Harry, that's all I'm asking, be honest with me." he turned so he was facing Harry, "look me in the eye and tell me that you're not hiding anything."

Harry gathered all his courage and looked up, straight into James' eyes.

"I'm not."

James held his gaze, searching him. He shook his head.

"You're lying."

Maybe I am," Harry replied, "but if I am, it's only for the best."

"Lying is never for the best."

"You can't say that," Harry argued, "sometimes, it's the only way."

"Only way for what?"

"To stay together."

James paused, heart beating furiously in his chest.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it's the truth."

"Harry, lying in any relationship will only weaken it, to the point that it will inevitably break." James said, "and when it's family, it should always be nothing but the truth."

"In fairytales, perhaps."

"No, Harry, not fairytales," both turned to see Lily at the door, "you should always be honest, especially with your family." she said.

Harry pulled himself to sit up as Lily crossed the room and sat down across from James.

"I think...I think we need to talk," she glanced at James before turning back to Harry, "about your time with...with Voldemort."

Harry kept his eyes downcast, staring at his lap.

"I think we all can agree," James started, "none of us _want_ to talk about _him_, but after tonight it's proven necessary."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Because of your scar," James said, "and...and because of what form your Boggart took."

Harry flinched at the mere mention of the thing.

"What about it?" he stubbornly asked, "it wasn't anything special."

"Harry?" Lily reached out, gently holding onto his shoulder and turning him slightly to face her, "how can you say that?"

Harry offered a weak shrug.

"Everyone's afraid of getting hurt."

"Yes, but not like that," Lily said, "the form that Boggart took..." she paused to collect herself, "it's not a simple fear of getting hurt. It seemed more than that."

Harry shrugged again, eyes trained on his lap but his guard was falling, crumbling around him. He couldn't keep up the pretence anymore and slowly, bit by bit, he was falling apart.

"You don't have to be afraid, Harry," Lily said softly, reaching out to caress his hair, "you can tell us anything."

Harry shook his head.

"I can't," he whispered, "you don't understand."

"What don't we understand?" James asked.

"It'll change everything." Harry said, looking up so James could see just how scared he was, "if I tell you what...what happened, you won't...you won't be able to..."

"What?" James asked.

Harry took in a breath.

"Stay with me."

James and Lily shared a shocked look.

"What?" James asked.

"Is that what you think?" Lily rubbed a hand down Harry's back, "honey, no matter what you tell us, nothing would make us stay away from you."

"We're your parents," James said, "we love you no matter what."

"I know," Harry said quietly, but deep inside he knew what would happen if they found out about his two secrets. If they learned about his childhood they wouldn't want to stay with him, it would be too painful and awkward. But if they found out he was a murderer, they would outright hate him, perhaps they would even disown, throw him out...

"Harry?"

His mum's voice broke through his trance and he looked up at her.

"What?"

"You weren't listening?" she asked, "I was asking you why your Boggart took that form?"

Harry didn't say anything.

"Harry?" Lily pushed.

"Mum," Harry pleaded, his throat tightening as his eyes started to prickle, "don't, please."

"Why won't you tell us?" Lily asked.

"Did...did Voldemort ever..." James struggled, "did he ever...hurt you?"

Harry dropped his head, his stomach clenched tight.

"Harry, please," Lily's hand rested on his shoulder.

Harry threw aside the covers and shot out of bed, startling both parents.

"Harry?" Lily rushed to her feet as Harry raced towards the door, but James' strong grip halted him.

"Whoa, Harry, Harry," James called out, "calm down."

"Let go, dad," Harry tried to free himself but to no avail, "I think...I'm...I'm going to be sick!"

James let go and Harry ran out the room and down the hallway. James and Lily ran after him, in time to see Harry throw open the door and double over at the toilet, before being sick. Lily hurried in after him, but James stood where he was, watching Harry throw up. His question had just been answered.

xxx

It was almost twenty minutes later when Lily and James brought a trembling Harry into his room. Lily wanted Harry to get back into bed but Harry refused, sitting on the edge of the bed instead, head dropped into both hands. He took in deep breaths, fighting to remain calm, but it was a fight he was fast losing.

James watched him. He came to kneel before Harry and held onto his wrists with both hands. Gently he pulled the arms away, so Harry couldn't hide behind them. It was just as James suspected. A pale and tear stained face looked up at him with watery green eyes. It was enough to shatter James' heart to pieces. He pulled Harry into his embrace.

Harry clung to him, trying his best to stifle his sobs but he couldn't.

"Harry?" Lily knelt next to him and ran a hand over his hair, "I'm sorry," she said, near to tears herself, "we never meant to upset you."

Harry only clung tighter to James, burying his face into his dad's neck.

"It's okay, Harry," James comforted, "it's okay."

Gradually, Harry managed to calm down. He uncurled his arms from around James and pulled back to sit on his heels. He wiped at his eyes with his sleeves, taking in deep breaths. James and Lily watched him carefully.

"You okay?" James asked.

Harry nodded, wiping at his tear-stained cheeks.

"I know this is horrible for you," James continued, "but if you don't tell us what you've been through, how can we help you?"

Harry felt another rush of tears stinging in his eyes. He closed them tightly and fought with himself not to break down again.

"Honey," Lily touched his shoulder, "let us help, please. Don't keep us out like this."

Harry shook his head.

"I'm not," he croaked, "I'm not keeping you out."

"By keeping secrets from us, you are." she replied.

Harry fell quiet.

"Be honest with us, Harry," James said, "let us in on what happened to you. Why you're afraid of getting hurt," he stared at him, "I can guess what's happened and I only need you to confirm it."

"Why?" Harry asked, "what good would that do?"

James paused.

"Maybe it would do no good," he said, "but at least I'll know if things were as bad as I think they were."

Harry dropped his gaze.

"They were bad," he admitted in a near whisper, "okay? Can we leave it at that?"

James shook his head, jaw clenched hard.

"What did _he_ do?" he asked.

Harry shook his head, eyes closed.

"No," he whispered, "I'm not talking about it."

"Harry-" Lily started.

"No!" Harry cut across, opening his eyes to glare at her, "I'm not talking about it! You know what probably happened, so just...just let it go!"

"Let it go?" James asked, "of course I'm not going to let it go!"

"I'm asking you to forget about it," Harry said, "why can't you do that?"

"Because I'm your dad," James said, "and I'm going to get to the bottom of this so I can help you."

"I don't need help." Harry said.

"Yes, you do." James insisted, "I just need to know what happened first."

Harry stared at him.

"You don't know what you're asking." he said, "if you find out the truth, it'll change everything."

"How?" Lily asked, "how will it change anything?"

Harry shook his head.

"Please, mum," he begged, "just drop it. Just pretend you didn't see anything."

"I can't do that." she shook her head, "pretences don't last forever."

Harry fell quiet.

"Fight it all you want, Harry," James said, "but we're not leaving until you tell us what that...that _bastard_ put you through."

Harry sat still, staring at one parent and then the other. He could see his dad was right. Neither of them were going to give up, he wasn't going to get out of this without the truth. He sniffed back his tears, wiped at his eyes with the back of his sleeve and got up to his feet.

"Harry? Where are you going?" Lily asked, rising to her feet.

James go up too, ready to stop Harry from leaving but Harry headed towards the window, not the door. Both parents watched as Harry crouched to the floor, in front of the dresser and stuck his hand under it, apparently searching for something. He pulled something out; a small, black and silver ring, one that neither James or Lily had seen before. Harry stood up, holding the ring in his hand. He walked back over to James and for a moment, he just stood, staring at the ring.

With a deep, shaky sigh, Harry reached over and took James' hand. He sat the ring carefully onto the middle of James' palm and rand his hand over it. Before their eyes, the ring transformed into a black pensieve, with a mass of silver substance swimming inside.

Shocked speechless, James and Lily stared at Harry.

"Early childhood memories." Harry spoke to the bowl and the silvery white, not-quite-gas-not-quite-liquid, swirled inside creating a tiny vortex.

Harry looked up at his mum and dad.

"Watch these," he said, "you'll get the answers to all your questions." he held James' gaze, "but promise me something," he paused, collecting himself, "promise me that you'll be able to look me in the eye afterwards."

xxx

The fireplace lit up in green flames and Sirius hurried out into kitchen of Godric's Hollow. James and Lily were waiting for him.

"What happened?" Sirius asked, "you said to come urgently. Is everything okay? Harry and Damy okay?"

"Yeah, everything's...fine." James said, "we need you to stay here and watch the boys."

Sirius' brow furrowed.

"Why? Where are you two going?"

James glanced at the black pensieve, sitting on the worktop. Sirius followed his gaze and his eyes widened.

"Whose is that?" he asked.

"Harry's." James replied.

"What?" Sirius' mouth dropped. "Why does he have a pensieve?"

"We're about to find out." Lily said, somewhat nervously.

"Where did he get that?" Sirius asked, "he didn't have that with him when he came, did he?"

"He came with only the clothes on his back," James reminded, "but the pensieve was transfigured into a ring. He must have had it in his pocket. He hid it in his room, under the dresser."

"Whoa," Sirius shook his head, "looks like Harry really didn't want anyone to find this." he looked from James to Lily.

"Harry gave it to us." Lily assured.

"Is this...is it about the...the Boggart?" Sirius asked.

James nodded.

Sirius shifted from one foot to the other.

"You sure you wanna go in there?" he asked.

"Honestly, no," James said, "but I have to know what happened to my son. I need to know what...what that monster did to him."

Sirius gave a slow, unhappy nod.

"Go, I'll watch the boys."

"We'll be back soon." James said, adding a silent 'hopefully'.

James and Lily walked to the bowl. Holding onto Lily's hand, both fell into the vortex of memories head first.

Both had heard Harry say, _'early childhood memories'_, so they were expecting a dark, shadowy manor with portraits of serpents covering the walls and the smell of blood and death in the air. What they weren't expecting was their own living room, complete with framed pictures on the mantle and a whimpering two year old Harry lying, bleeding in the corner.

xxx

Harry lay in his bed, wide awake, heart beating furiously in his chest. His mum and dad had left his room an hour ago. They were probably in his pensieve right now, watching his painful childhood. He shuddered at the thought, willing his stomach not to roll.

What were they going to be like when they came back out? Would they be able to look at him again? Could they live with him always here, a painful reminder of the horrors they saw in the pensieve?

He let out a deep breath, working furiously to remain calm, fighting the urge to get up and run away, so he would never have to face his parents again. He reminded himself that he was no coward. He wouldn't run. He ignored the little voice in his head that told him he didn't have anywhere else to go anyway.

His mum and dad were going to treat him differently from now on, that much was certain. They would be walking around egg shells when in his company, now that they would know what kind of memories he had of this place. Harry closed his eyes, shaking his head. He didn't want this. He didn't want anything to _change_. But it seemed inevitable now.

His door creaked open and Harry quickly looked around, his heart jumping at the idea of facing his horror-stricken parents so soon. But it wasn't James or Lily. It was a sleepy-eyed Damien, standing at the door, rubbing at his eyes.

"Harry?"

Harry relaxed.

"What's wrong, Damy?"

"Where's mum and dad?" the seven year old asked.

Harry paused.

"They're not far," he answered, "why? What's wrong?"

Damien's lower lip trembled.

"I had a bad dream," he said in a quiet whisper, "about...about that thing in the trunk."

"It was only a Boggart, Damy," Harry assured, "it's nothing to be scared of. It can't hurt you." he forced the words out, even though he knew just how badly this Boggart had hurt his chances of having a normal life with his parents.

"I want mum." Damien whined.

"She'll be back, soon." Harry replied.

"Uncle Siri's here," Damien said, "I went lookin' for mum and saw Uncle Siri sleepin' on the sofa downstairs, but mum and dad aren't here."

"They'll be back soon, promise." Harry said. "Go back to bed."

Damien hesitated.

"I'm scared."

Harry sighed. He got up and pulled back his covers.

"Come on then," he said, "you can sleep here."

Damien ran across the room and jumped into the bed. He snuggled close to Harry, wrapping a small arm around him.

"That thing was so scary," Damien said with a shudder, "I can't stop thinkin' about it."

"I told you, it's just a Boggart, it can't hurt you, only scare you." Harry replied, but he lightly tapped Damien's shoulder anyway, trying to comfort him.

"Well it did scare me," Damien said, "you not afraid, Harry?"

Harry imagined what his mum and dad were going to look like the next time they walked into his room. He swallowed heavily.

"Terrified." he admitted quietly.

xxx

"No, dad!...Please...Please! I'm sorry!...No!...No!"

A three year old Harry screamed as the belt tore across his back. A kick in the ribs and the child cried out, curling up, only to be struck across the head with the belt.

James and Lily stood, watching the memory play out, unable to do a single thing. Both had a faint notion of what they were going to see when they entered the pensieve. Harry's Boggart and his reaction when asked if Voldemort had ever hurt him, had pretty much told James and Lily he had been abused. But what they weren't prepared for, was seeing _who_ it was hurting their son. They had imagined it was Voldemort or maybe a filthy, sadistic Death Eater. They weren't prepared to see James Potter holding the belt in his hand, glaring angrily at the child. Behind the cruel James, was a bored looking Lily Potter, doing not a single thing to help the child, even when he cried out to her.

"M-Mum," Harry cried weakly, holding out a small hand towards her, "help, please!"

"If you can't take the punishment, then don't misbehave." Lily said, sitting at the kitchen table, sipping at her tea, like nothing was happening. "You shouldn't steal food, should you?" she smiled up at him, "we're only teaching you how wrong it is to steal."

Harry cried, lying on the tiled floor, hands wrapped around his stomach.

"I-I didn't...I was...h-hungry." he tried explaining. All he got in reply was another slash of the belt.

"You were supposed to be hungry!" James thundered, "you're on a punishment for not completing your chores you stupid little shit!"

Another kick and the child's cry was lost as all the breath was forced out of him.

The real James and Lily cried out at every kick, every strike of the belt, every pain filled cry of their three year old boy. To see your small, vulnerable child horrendously abused was perhaps the most harrowing thing one could witness, but when the perpetrators were wearing your face, there was no torture like it.

James and Lily watched memory after memory, unable to stop them, unable to get out. It seemed the pensieve would only let them out after all the memories labelled as 'early childhood' would come to an end. By the tenth memory, James felt like he was going to lose his mind. He fell to the ground, unable to stay standing as above him, the monster with his face beat a three year old Harry with his fists, for a misgiving as innocent as forgetting to put out water with the meal.

Lily turned her back to the memory and wept, hands covering her face, as the sounds of her baby boy echoed around her. Everytime he called out to her, begged her to help, a howl of pain left the real Lily. What wouldn't she give to go back in time and save her baby boy. To answer his plea of help by rescuing him from that heartless bastard, Voldemort.

There was no doubt in James and Lily's mind. It was Voldemort under James' mask. No one else could be _this_ cruel.

A memory started, one that answered the mystery surrounding Harry's strange aversion to the kitchen. James and Lily watched the memory play out, watched as 'Sirius' arrived at Godric's Hollow, how he ridiculed the four year old Harry, how he got him into trouble by burning the food. They forced themselves through the beating, delivered by the heartless 'James'. But when it came to what happened next, both James and Lily lost it. As soon as they saw the glint in the evil James' eye and saw Sirius open the oven door with a sadistic smirk, they ran towards them, screaming in fury and panic.

"NO!" the real James shouted, "Leave him alone, you bastard!" he made to swipe Harry away, to protect him, but his corporeal form didn't exist when inside a memory. He was just a shadow watching what had happened years ago. No matter how much he screamed, how badly he thrashed, he couldn't change what had already happened.

"No! No! No!" Lily screamed as the memory James carried Harry towards the oven, "No! Let him go! Let him go!"

Their screams mixed with Harry's as 'James' forced the small hand inside the oven and held it against the metal plate.

"NO! NO!" James cried, "Enough! Enough! I want out! Let me out!" he turned around, kicking at the walls, but his foot just went through it.

"Oh God!" Lily sobbed hysterically, watching Harry thrash wildly in 'James' arms, screaming in agony. "Oh God, no! Please, no! Stop! Please, _please_ stop!"

Finally, Harry was pulled away and thrown roughly onto the kitchen floor.

"Clean up this mess!" the fake James ordered, "then get to bed! You can forget about having any dinner, you little shit!"

Smirking, the fake James and Sirius left the kitchen, leaving the gasping four year old, curled on the kitchen floor. He was left breathless from screaming, his hand horribly burned. For long minutes, Harry lay on the floor, seemingly unable to get up. James and Lily stumbled towards him and fell to the ground, close to him.

James could barely see from the blur of tears in his eyes. He reached out, wishing he could touch his four year old son, wishing he could wrap the trembling child in his arms and never let him go. He wished he could save him.

But as the memory went on, James saw who it was that _saved_ Harry. He and Lily persevered through the rest of the horrific memory, watched as Harry opened the back door and left Godric's Hollow, for good. They watched in horror as the giant serpent, Voldemort's much loved pet, Nagini met the scared Harry and led him away. Even in the memory, the location of Voldemort's home was hidden, by the memory jumping from the forest Harry met Nagini in, to a large room draped in darkness.

Gritting his teeth, James watched as Voldemort talked to Harry. The lies, the deception, it was enough to make James sick to his stomach. Lily was watching with disbelief. How could one person be so vile as to hurt a mere child and then offer to keep him _safe?_

It was just after Voldemort pointed his wand and gave Harry the curse scar that James lost it and flew into a spitting rage. Right after Voldemort smirked and told a terrified Harry, _'You are now my __son.'_

xxx

The Pensieve hurled James and Lily out, throwing them onto the floor of the kitchen. But neither of them seemed to notice. They were in shock of all they had seen. Horror-stricken, they were aware of nothing but the tortures they had witnessed, inflicted on their child.

The sound of them hitting the floor rose Sirius from his light slumber in the next room. Bleary-eyed, he rushed into the kitchen.

"James? Lily? Are you alright?" he asked, hurrying to help them stand up.

But James and Lily made no move to get up. They seemed hardly aware of Sirius, standing before them, talking to them. Worried, Sirius knelt before them.

"James? Prongs? Hey!" he snapped his fingers in front of his face, getting a reaction at last. James' teary gaze rested on a fast panicking Sirius.

"What happened?" Sirius asked, his gaze darted to the black bowl sitting on top of the worktop. He looked across at a pale and shaking Lily before staring back at his friend. "God, James," he uttered, terrified, "what did you see?"

James swallowed heavily.

What answer could he give?

xxx

The bedside lamp was left on, bathing the room in a soft glow. So when James and Lily opened Harry's door, they saw their two boys on the bed, fast asleep. Quietly, both parents crossed the room, coming to kneel next to the bed.

It was a strange thing; seeing memory after memory of a young Harry, screaming and crying, in pain and terror. Then coming back to see him six years older, lying peacefully in bed, fast asleep. One of his arms was draped around Damien, as the younger boy snuggled close to his brother's chest, snoring softly.

But tonight, James and Lily had eyes only for their eldest. They both stared at Harry, at the brave boy that came back to a house that held nothing but memories of torture and pain. They stared at the ten year old, wondering how it was possible for someone so young to be so strong.

The echoes of Harry's cries; pleading for mercy, calling for help, rang in James' head. But what made it a thousand times more painful, was that each of his cries, every plead he made, he made it to his '_dad_'. It was James that he was begging, James that he was scrambling to get away from, James that he was cowering in front of.

Tears burned in James' eyes and he dropped his head, shoulders shaking as silent sobs racked his frame.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to his sleeping son, "I'm so sorry."

Lily tried comforting him, even though she was sobbing herself, but James was far past the point of comfort. Nothing could take his pain away, just like nothing could ever take away what happened to his son.

"I'm sorry, Harry," he continued to weep, "I'm so, so sorry."

xxx


	10. Guilt Issues

**Disclaimer** I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

**Chapter Ten**

Harry woke up with a start. He didn't know what it was he had been dreaming about but it wasn't pleasant. He took in several deep breaths to calm himself and slow his frantic heart rate back to normal. Gradually, he relaxed and the fog of sleep lifted from his mind. That's when he realised his left arm was strangely numb. Looking over, he saw why.

Damien was fast asleep, his head on Harry's arm, snuggled close to his side.

The sight made Harry smile, even though a part of him was annoyed that the boy spent the entire night, squeezed into his side. With his free hand, Harry reached over and shook Damien's shoulder.

"Damy?"

Damien didn't stir.

"Damien?" Harry tried, a little louder, "Damien, get up." Harry shook him a little harder and Damien's hazel eyes cracked open.

"Hmm?" he enquired, sleepy-eyed.

"It's morning," Harry told him, "you can get up now."

"Hmm, kay," Damien murmured, before his eyes slid shut again and he went back to sleep.

Harry frowned.

"Damy?" he called but there was no reply, "Damy!" he yelled.

Damien shot awake with a disgruntled yelp.

"Wha-?"

"Get up!" Harry snapped.

"A'right, a'right," Damien groaned but all he did was turn over and go back to sleep.

At least he had freed Harry's trapped arm. Harry sat up, rubbing at his tingling arm, trying to get rid of the pin and needles sensation.

"You not getting up?" Harry asked.

Damien muttered something intelligible but didn't move.

"Suit yourself." Harry sighed and slipped out of the bed.

He stepped into the hallway, heading towards the bathroom when he heard the faint voices from downstairs. He suddenly paused, goosebumps erupting all over him. Last night came screaming back and Harry felt his blood run cold. He had given his pensieve to his parents.

They had gone into it.

They had seen his childhood.

They knew.

Harry had the urge to run back to his room and lock the door. He didn't want to face his mum and dad. He didn't want to see their reaction. What would they say to him? How would they react around him now? Could they even stand being around him? Would the pain of knowing how horrendously abused Harry was prove too much for them?

Harry mentally kicked himself. Why had he given in yesterday? He shouldn't have handed them his pensieve. He should have lied, should have carried on pretending, should have done...anything. Anything that would keep his past hidden. But he had broke under his parents' pleading. He couldn't look his mum and dad in the eye and lie one more time. He had to give them answers but now, he was terrified of the consequences.

Steeling himself the best he could, Harry pushed himself towards the bathroom, so he could wash. The longer he could stall facing his parents, the better.

xxx

Three mugs of coffee sat infront of the adults, but none of them were drinking. None of them were in the state to stomach anything, food or drink. Sirius stared from James to Lily, his eyes red-rimmed, mouth dropped open in silent horror as his mind repeated what his friends had told him. He shook his head again.

"Why?" the question came out as a scratching sound from his dry throat, but still he didn't reach for his drink, "why would _he_ do...this? Why? What did Voldemort get from playing such a sick game?"

James drew his head up from his folded arms but didn't speak. He didn't have the answers, only questions. Hundreds and hundreds of questions; why Voldemort did this? What else did his poor Harry go through? How Harry was treated after he supposedly 'ran-away' from his parents and started living with Voldemort? What Voldemort hoped to gain from torturing a mere child? What other sick and twisted lies had Voldemort fed into Harry's young innocent mind?

His bloodshot, hazel eyes moved to the black bowl, sitting in the middle of the table. He knew some of his answers may lie in there but James wasn't going to go back in. He wasn't brave enough to delve back into the horrors that was his son's childhood.

Last night, all he had seen, all he had witnessed, had left him changed forever. His eyes were shadowed now, as if the sight of his bleeding three year old son had darkened them. His lips were stripped of their usual mischievous smile, as if the cries of his baby boy had made him forget how to smile. The lines on his brow told of the mental anguish James was suffering, after witnessing the torture of his infant child. James was no longer straight backed and proud. He was sitting in his chair, hunched and stooped over, as if the sound of Harry's pleading and begging had broken him.

Lily wasn't any better. Her shock and pain mirrored that of her husband but even Lily, possessing the bleeding heart of a mother, couldn't feel the extent of pain James was enduring. The main culprit in all of Harry's memories was James. It was James that beat him. James that screamed abuse at him. James that towered over the three year old and threatened to break every bone in that tiny body. It was all James.

"He wanted Harry to hate me," James murmured, half in answer to Sirius' question and half in answer to his own, "he pretended to be me and...and hurt Harry, just so my son would hate me." he shook his head, "how low can a person fall, to do such a thing?"

"Voldemort's not a person," Sirius objected, "he's a monster!"

"He is a monster," Lily said quietly, "what he did...everything he put Harry through..." she was shaking her head, eyes closed tight, "oh God, Sirius! I can't even...even tell you." she dropped her head into her hands, fighting against the onslaught of tears again.

Her child was only fifteen months old when Peter stole him and handed him over to Voldemort. It was from that age onwards that Voldemort hurt him. Lily's very soul ached at the thought. Her child, her baby, her _Harry_, defenceless and vulnerable, at Voldemort's mercy and _this_ is what that monster did? Tortured him day and night under the pretence of being James.

"We should have worked this out," Sirius said, shaking his head at his own stupidity, " I mean, we've all been wondering, even if we've never spoken out loud about it," at James and Lily's questioning look, Sirius elaborated, "why Voldemort never...you know...killed Harry?"

James and Lily bristled but their expressions changed to show understanding.

"I was confused," Sirius admitted, "I couldn't figure out why Voldemort would allow Harry to live, when he knows that Harry is the prophesied one, possibly the only one that can destroy him," his eyes showed his pain as he continued, "but now, it makes sense. He let Harry live and did this...this sick act to make Harry turn against his true family. That way, he comes out looking like the only one who..." he faltered, unable to say the word. With great effort, he forced the word out, "...who _cares_ for Harry," he pulled a face, muttering curses under his breath, "sick son-of-a-bitch!" he looked up at James, "we should have asked why? Why Voldemort let Harry live? Why he didn't kill the chosen one? If we had, we might have learned all this sooner."

James shook his head in self-incrimination.

"Why didn't I see it?" he asked, his voice so low it sounded like a whisper, "why couldn't I read the signs? The first morning he ran out from here. Why didn't I figure out it was something about this house that scared Harry?" he shared a look with Lily, who looked just as guilty as he felt, "why didn't I question why Harry refused to go into the kitchen? Why did I just accept it and not push for answers?"

"Because you're a good dad, that's why." Sirius comforted, "you were giving Harry space and time to adjust. You were doing right by him."

"Right by him?" James' eyes hardened, "I was living my life while my son was beaten bloody _every_ day! I was having a great time with my wife and with Damy while Harry was living a nightmare! What _right_ have I done by him, Sirius? Nothing, nothing at all!"

"You didn't know Harry was even alive," Sirius argued, "don't blame yourself, blame that bastard that did this! Blame Voldemort."

"It's my face that Harry remembers," James said, his voice breaking at the revelation, "he thought it was me that hurt him. It was...me that he begged, me that he pleaded with, me that he cowered before," tears blurred his vision, but James went on, unable to stop, "it was me that tore the skin from his back, me that broke his bones, me that delivered every kick, every punch-"

"Stop it!" Lily yelled. She had already seen it. She didn't have the stomach to hear it too, "it wasn't you, don't do this to yourself."

James was on his feet.

"But _Harry_ thought it was me!" he said, "he grew up believing that! He would probably still believe it if Peter never told him the truth and brought him here."

"But he did," Lily said, getting up too, "Peter corrected his wrong by telling Harry the truth. He brought Harry back and now Harry knows who hurt him. Harry knows you love him, that we both love him. We have to remind him of that, remind Harry every day just how much we love him." she shook her head, "but if you fall into this trap of guilt, you won't be able to even look at him. This unjust guilt will take Harry away from you."

James stilled. He remembered, with the utmost clarity, what Harry had asked from him, _'promise me that you'll be able to look me in the eye afterwards.'_ Is this why Harry made him promise? Because Harry knew after watching the memories, he and Lily were bound to feel guilty?

James felt his stomach lurch again. Is this how insecure Harry felt? That's when he remembered last night's conversation,

_"You don't understand."_

_"What don't we understand?" ._

_It'll change everything...if I tell you what...what happened, you won't...you won't be able to..."_

_"What?"_

_"Stay with me."_

James' eyes widened in realisation. Lily was right. If he didn't control his guilt, if he allowed it to manifest itself and take control of him, he really wouldn't be able to look Harry in the eyes again. What if Harry felt insecure in his own home? Felt his parents were too ashamed to be with him? No, James silently vowed. He wouldn't lose Harry, not again, not to Death Eaters, not to Voldemort and certainly not to guilt issues.

He took in a breath and tried his best to calm down. He nodded at Lily.

"You're right," he breathed, "I have to place blame where it belongs," he said, "I'm not going to give Harry a reason to regret giving us the pensieve."

"Yeah," Sirius added, "you're right, James, put blame where it belongs. You didn't do anything. This is all Voldemort's doing."

James had to fight to hold back his tears.

"No, Sirius," he said quietly. "it's my fault, all my fault. If I had looked for Harry when he was taken, if I hadn't listened and stuck to you as my secret keeper, if I had found Harry nine years ago, my son wouldn't have been tortured. My Harry wouldn't have suffered. He wouldn't have cried in a place where no one was interested in his tears. If I had done my _job_ as a father, I would have been able to protect my son!"

Sirius was stunned into silence. He could only stare at his heart-broken friend.

"I deserve the guilt, but I'm not going to let Harry see it." James said, "I'm not losing my son again because of my shortcomings. Harry deserves better and I'm going to give him that."

Wiping a hand across her wet cheeks, Lily walked over to James and slipped a hand into his.

"_We_ are going to give Harry the best," she corrected, "Harry is never going to see the hurt, the pain. The only thing Harry will ever see when he looks at us, is the happiness he brings us."

A sound next to the door made all three adults turn to see Harry, standing at the threshold, staring at them.

xxx

The silence that fell on the room was the most awkward and tense one yet. James and Lily felt like their hearts had forgotten to beat as they laid eyes on Harry. Sirius stared at Harry but the boy's gaze was fixed on his parents. He looked from one to the other, before resting his gaze on James.

"You feel guilty?" he asked quietly, "so I was right. Telling you what happened in my past ruined our future."

James darted towards him at once.

"No, no Harry, no," he knelt before him, grabbing him by the arms, "don't think that. Nothing can ruin our future together, nothing."

Lily came to rest next to James.

"We love you," she reminded, "we're always going to love you, no matter what."

Harry looked from one to the other, giving both a long stare before his lips parted again.

"You shouldn't feel guilty or uncomfortable, not in your own home," he said, "if...if seeing me around makes you feel...guilty then...then I'll leave-"

"Harry," James cut him off, his grip tightened around Harry's arms, "listen to me closely," he said, "the only way you can leave us, is over my dead body."

Harry quietened at once, staring at James with surprise.

"I can't live without you," James confessed, "the nine years I had in this house without you, every moment was spent in your memory. You are my backbone, Harry. Without you, I wouldn't even be able to stand. So never, never even contemplate about leaving us. You would kill your dad if you did."

Harry shook his head.

"Don't say that." he pleaded

James smiled, teary-eyed and reached to cup Harry's face.

"I'm sorry, about what I said, about feeling guilty," he said, "but my guilt, my remorse, it isn't because of you," he explained, "it's because I wasn't there to protect you, to keep you safe."

"It wasn't your fault." Harry tried.

"It doesn't matter," James replied, "I'm your dad. Anything happens to you, I feel responsible." he faltered, as horrendous images flashed in his mind; a belt in his hand, a snarl on his face, the bloodied welts on a three year old's back, "what you lived through..." he pushed himself to stay strong, "what you...suffered...you...you believed that...that I was the one who...who..."

He couldn't finish. The pain was too great. The tears and grief that he was holding back, broke through his resolve and James dropped his head into his hand as quiet sobs racked through him. He felt Lily's hand on his back but he shook his head. He couldn't stop the tears now. He felt Harry's hand on his own and he allowed the boy to pull his hand down and expose his face, wet with tears and bright with pain.

Through the blur of tears, James saw Harry was also tearing up. He reached out and pulled Harry to his chest, crying as he hugged Harry tightly.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, "I'm so sorry, Harry. I'm so, _so_ sorry!"

"Dad?" Harry pulled away, "why are you sorry? You didn't do anything." he asked, even as his own tears tracked down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there," James explained, "every time you...you called to me. I'm sorry I couldn't come to save you."

Harry didn't say anything, but the tears continued to fall from his eyes. He looked over and his mum and Sirius were in tears too. Lily hugged Harry, kissing him, holding him close.

"Thank you for sharing your past with us," she told him, "I know how scared you were, but you have nothing to worry about," she promised, "we'll work past this. We'll be strong, I promise you Harry, we'll be strong and we'll stay together. We're never going to be apart again. We will always stay together. I promise."

xxx

The black pensieve sat on the table. A shimmer ran through the silvery substance before two forms came tumbling out. James and Lily looked up to see Albus Dumbledore and Sirius Black land unsteadily on their feet. At once, James was up, helping the weary and drained looking Dumbledore into the nearest chair in the headquarters private parlour. Lily helped Sirius, who looked rather pale.

James and Lily waited as both men recovered from what they had seen in the pensieve. James looked at his best friend, feeling sympathy bubble inside at the sight of him. He had warned Sirius not to go in, but Sirius had wanted to see for himself the extent of the lies Voldemort fabricated about him. Sirius wanted to see how low Voldemort could fall, but more than that, Sirius wanted to see what false memories Harry had about him.

"Dumbledore?" Lily asked, kneeling before him.

Wearily, Dumbledore raised his head but kept his eyes closed.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

When Dumbledore opened his eyes, they were missing their usual twinkle.

"I've never thought..." Dumbledore breathed with difficulty, "is this what Tom's reduced himself to? Abusing a child, torturing him and tricking him to gain his loyalty?" he shook his head, resting it against the back of the chair before closing his eyes, "Merlin help me," he whispered, "I fear what I've seen will indeed be the end of me."

"Is it real?" James asked, getting to the point. He had been praying, fervently that the memories they had seen were all fake. That his son had never really suffered, only _believed_ to have suffered.

Dumbledore opened his eyes before sitting up.

"James," he said quietly, almost painfully, "I'm sorry."

James felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. He nodded and moved back, running a hand through his hair, until both hands rested on the back of his head. He forced back the tears, burning with disappointment and grief.

"No," Lily shook her head, "please, Dumbledore, please tell me it's fake. It didn't really happen, not to Harry, please?"

"I wish I could," Dumbledore replied gravely, "but I'm afraid, the memories are real. Harry's lived through all we've seen."

Lily dissolved in tears, her chocked cries rang in the room, but no one had the heart to comfort her. Not James, not Dumbledore, not even Sirius. All were lost in their own grief.

xxx

It was a few days before Sirius mustered up the courage to come to Godric's Hollow. He had tried but couldn't find it in himself to face Harry, not after seeing what the child remembered of him. It was all false, Sirius knew Harry was aware of that, but still, he couldn't face him. It was now he understood what James meant by feeling guilty. Every time he remembered one of the memories and a tiny Harry addressed the _bastard_ feigning to be him, he felt a sear of pain grip at his heart. Every time he remembered how the fake him slapped Harry, or how he laughed at the child's pain or even how he stood back and enjoyed watching the fake James beat the boy bloody, it made Sirius want to go out and kill as many filthy Death Eaters as he could find.

Sirius took an oath, to find out which Death Eater it was that pretended to be him, and to kill that son-of-a-bitch slowly and excruciatingly painfully. He was going to take vengeance, that he swore to himself, not only because this Death Eater had pretended to be him, but because of how badly this low-life treated his Godson.

Sirius couldn't sleep when he remembered Harry's fear-filled eyes. He couldn't eat when he recalled how badly Harry was beaten. Sirius couldn't downright breathe when he remembered how Harry begged and pleaded for mercy, which he never received.

But Sirius knew that if he shied away from Harry, he was the one that was going to lose him. So he gathered all his Gryffindor bravery and went to Godric's Hollow that afternoon.

He met James and Lily, cuddled Damien but his usual charm was missing. His laughter was empty, his smiles void of their cheekiness. When Sirius finally crossed paths with Harry, he found he couldn't hold the child's gaze. Harry didn't speak to him and Sirius, despite trying, couldn't find anything to say to him.

The evening dragged on, until Sirius excused himself, shortly after a strained dinner and left to come back to the headquarters.

It was just as Sirius was pouring himself his third shot of whiskey, sitting alone in his darkened parlour, that the floo went off behind him. He turned around to see James step out of the green flames, Harry by his side.

Sirius quickly waved his wand and the room lit up.

"James," Sirius greeted, "what's wrong?"

"Harry asked to speak to you," James said, gesturing to the said boy, "I'm just going to wait in the kitchen."

Before Sirius could say anything, James gave a nod to Harry and turned to walk out, closing the door behind him. Sirius had no choice but to look at Harry, who was holding his gaze intently.

"Harry," Sirius forced himself to address him, "is something wrong?"

Harry remained quiet, just staring at Sirius.

"You were awfully quiet today." he said at last.

Sirius attempted a half smile.

"Didn't have much to say."

Harry tilted his head to the side.

"Why's that?"

Sirius gave a shrug.

"Doesn't have to be a reason," he said, turning so his back was to Harry, he began tidying up the bottle and glass, "besides, it's good to give other people a chance to talk, right?"

"You've seen the memories, haven't you?" Harry asked, halting Sirius mid-action.

Slowly, Sirius turned around, giving up on pretences. He gave a small nod.

"That's why you're avoiding me?" Harry asked.

Sirius felt horrible.

"It wasn't intentional," he explained, "I just...I'm not brave enough to face you."

Harry walked a little closer.

"You didn't do anything."

"That's not how you remember it."

Harry paused.

"No, not anymore."

Sirius fell quiet.

"Can I tell you something?" Harry asked. At Sirius' nod, he continued, "when I came back home, I found it easier to deal with mum and dad." he looked up at Sirius, "but I couldn't deal with you. I don't know why," Harry added, seeing the pained look on Sirius, "I know it wasn't you that hurt me, but you still annoyed me. I tried so hard to like you, but I kept remembering my past and I just couldn't separate you from those memories."

Sirius had to sit down.

"That night, when we came back from the circus," Harry reminded, "when you and dad were talking about my...my punishment," Harry shook his head, "I felt like I had stepped back in time. The way you were behaving, smiling and joking around about what my punishment should be," Harry paused, "it felt too close to my past and that's why I said all those things to you. I wanted to hurt you, to make you feel bad and I know that I did." Harry paused again, holding Sirius' gaze, "and I know that I owe you an apology for that."

Sirius shook his head suddenly.

"Oh, God!" he exclaimed, "Harry, please, don't apologise."

"I have to," Harry replied, "I treated you unfairly, hurt you for no reason."

"Harry, stop," Sirius held out a hand, "please, I'm begging you," he pointed to himself, "I should be the one that apologises to you."

"What for?" Harry asked.

"For reminding you of your past," Sirius replied, "my stupidity, my immaturity caused you pain."

"It's not your fault," Harry said, "your immaturity is what makes you Sirius."

"And that's exactly what _they_ used to pretend to be me!" Sirius said, "if I don't change, I'll always remind you of your childhood, of that...that _Sirius_ that hurt you!"

"But if you change, you won't be the Sirius that my mum and dad love, that Damy loves." Harry pointed out. "If you change, you won't be Sirius anymore."

"That's good," Sirius said, "then maybe, my Godson can stand to be around me."

Harry was taken aback. Steeling himself, he replied,

"I'm starting to get used to you. When I came here to help you, the chores we did, all that time we spent, I saw you...differently, even though you were the same Sirius as always." he walked closer, so he was only two steps away, "I don't want you to change. I don't want you to be different. I only just got you, Sirius, I don't want to lose you."

"Harry," Sirius breathed, "you'll never lose me."

"You couldn't sit through dinner because of me," Harry said, "how can you tell me I won't lose you?"

Sirius fell silent.

"My dad really cares for you," Harry said, "even mum loves you, though she'd never admit it," Sirius smiled a little at that, "and Damy? God, Damy adores you." Harry moved closer still, "I don't want to be the reason they all lose you."

Sirius reached out, holding onto Harry by the shoulders.

"I swear on everything I hold dear to me, Harry. You, Damy, James and Lily will never lose me."

Harry smiled.

"You won't change either?"

Sirius let go of him and dropped his head.

"I wish I could promise you this," he said, "but the truth is, I'm already changed. Seeing your memories, they changed me Harry."

"But I don't want anything to change," Harry pleaded, "I want everything, everyone to remain the same."

"I wish I could," Sirius said swallowing back his tears, "but knowing what you went through at the hands of a person that you believed to be me," he paused, shaking his head, "I can't forget about it. I can't stop thinking about it. I wish I could go back in time, so far back that I could take you away, keep you safe, protect you," Sirius couldn't stop the hot tears from falling, "that's what I was supposed to do. I'm your Godfather, I should have protected you."

Harry rubbed at his burning eyes, sniffing back his own tears.

"You can't undo the past."

"I know," Sirius nodded, "but how I wish I could," he sighed, "how I wish I could start over. A fresh start with you, just you and me and no memories haunting us."

Harry looked up at him, eyes wide with a sudden idea.

"Who says we can't?" he asked quietly.

Sirius frowned.

"What?"

But Harry only brushed back his tears, and held out a shaky hand.

"Hi, I'm Harry Potter. Nice to meet you."

Sirius looked at Harry with tears burning in his eyes and choked back a sob. He grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him into his arms, holding him tightly to his chest. He cried, more than he had cried in a long time, while Harry clung to Sirius, sobbing quietly in his embrace.

xxx

James left with Harry, after Sirius promised he would be over the next morning for breakfast. It was only moments afterwards that Remus arrived. Sirius was glad. He wasn't in the mood to be left alone.

They two marauders settled in the parlour and talked about the memories witnessed in Harry's pensieve.

"How's Harry coping?" Remus asked, worriedly.

"He seems to be okay," Sirius said, "he's very strong, Remus. I don't think another child of only ten years would be able to go through something like this."

Remus nodded in agreement.

"It's good that this came out in the open," he said, "it isn't healthy for Harry to be dealing with such a thing on his own. Now, James and Lily, along with us, can help Harry get through this."

"It it wasn't for that Boggart, all this wouldn't have come to light." Sirius said.

Remus paused.

"How did that Boggart get in your trunk?" he asked.

"No idea," Sirius replied, "I think the trunk was in the attic. You know Boggarts, they love dark places. The house elves have been bringing stuff down, just a few things that I thought might fit in the playroom." he shook his head, "they must have brought the trunk down, thinking it had old toys."

"What'd you do with the Boggart and the trunk?" Remus asked.

"I got rid of it," Sirius replied, "the Boggart's gone and I threw the trunk out. I don't want to see that thing ever again."

xxx

In a deserted street alley, only a block away from the Headquarters, the empty trunk lay discarded in the midst of old bin bags and cardboard boxes. Slowly, the trunk began to tremble, as if the ground under the trunk was shaking. The surrounding piles of rubbish lay still, but the trunk was jittering, making a distinct clanging noise in the quiet street. In grew in intensity until the trunk was lifted into the air by it's violet thrashing. As soon as it became airborne, it started to shrink rapidly. It flew across the alley, shrinking and changing from a rectangular trunk to a perfect round disc. The black and red paint brightened until it was a shiny gold.

The transformed trunk, now a small, shiny golden disc, flew into the street and clicked perfectly in place on a yellow skirt, surrounded by other identical golden discs. Gazelle looked up from her skirt and smiled. The gypsy turned her dark head and stared at the spot between numbers 11 and 13 Grimmauld place before flashing a dazzling smile again. It was as if the Gypsy could see the hidden house and all the occupants inside.

With a glint of triumph sparkling in her eyes, she turned and walked away, her tinkering laugh echoing down the street.

xxx


	11. Baby Steps

**Disclaimer** I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

**Chapter Eleven**

"You think this is a good idea?" Lily asked, nervously.

James nodded, his stare fixed on the door, waiting for his two boys to come downstairs to breakfast.

"We have to set things straight, Lily." he said, before looking over at his wife, whose nerves were making her tremble, "Harry said he didn't want to be treated differently. His fear was after finding out his truth, we wouldn't be able to stay together, live and breathe as a family," determination sparkled in his hazel eyes, "we have to show him that we are going to stay together. There's going to be no more awkwardness and unspoken tension in this house. Now, we know what Harry's fears and insecurities are, we're going to help him overcome them."

Lily nodded, letting out a deep slow breath. Her hands were still shaking though.

They heard the doors upstairs closing and a faint chatter as two pairs of footsteps thudded on the stairs. The voices got louder as Harry and Damien, arguing about something new this morning, approached the living room door. It clicked open and James and Lily were greeted to the sight of their two sons.

"Morning, mum! Morning Dad!" Damien greeted happily.

"Morning, Damy," Lily replied, but her stare quickly darted to her eldest, who only nodded, as was his usual greeting.

It had been almost a week since James and Lily had learned the truth held in Harry's pensieve. In that one week, they had lived with only one thought on their mind; _how to move forward?_ Every second that ticked by, had James and Lily plotting and planning ways to show Harry that they were strong, that he did the right thing by showing them his childhood memories, that they were going to get past Voldemort's horrendous atrocity and that they were going to win this and stay together as a family.

"Harry's doing a good job, getting you up in the mornings." James smiled at Damien.

"Oh, yeah," Damien's smile fell from his face and he turned to point a finger at Harry, as if he had just remembered, "he threw me out of my bed!"

"No I didn't," Harry smiled back, "I _tossed_ you out of bed."

"What's the difference?" Damien asked.

"Wait tomorrow," Harry replied, "I'll throw you out and you'll know the difference."

"As thankful as I am that I don't have to spend an hour trying to get Damy up," Lily started, "maybe you shouldn't be throwing _or_ tossing your brother out of bed."

Harry shrugged.

"I can always lift him out?"

"There you go." Lily smiled, nodding at him.

"And then toss him." Harry added with a mischievous grin.

Damien had lost interest in the topic and moved forward before suddenly coming to a stop. He looked at the strangely vacant corner of the room.

"Hey, where's the table?"

That's when Harry's attention shifted to the missing dinner table and the mirth disappeared in a flash. Lily steadied herself.

"We moved it back," she replied, her gaze on Harry, "back into the kitchen."

Harry met her eyes suddenly. The look of shock and rapidly growing fear in them almost stole Lily's voice.

"We...we thought it was time that...that it went back into the kitchen and we started having our meals there again."

Harry stayed standing as Damien moved to the door on the other side and opened it, walking into the kitchen without a second thought. Harry glanced once out of the open door but his gaze snapped back to his parents.

Silently, James walked over and placed a hand on the Harry's shoulder.

"It's time you made your own memories here, Harry," he said softly, "ones that you will never want to hide in a pensieve."

Harry shook his head, green eyes dilated with fear.

"I...I can't go in there-"

"I know you can," James said, "it took incredible bravery for you to walk back into this house. I know you can walk two more steps."

Harry shook his head.

"We didn't understand," Lily said, coming to stand next to Harry, "when you first came back, we made changes, not realising what we were doing or even why." Her hands cupped Harry's cheeks and she lifted his head up so she could meet his eyes, "now we know why you don't want to go into the kitchen. Now, we can do something about it."

Harry stared at her, desperately trying to hold onto her words.

"I don't think I can." he uttered honestly.

"We're right by your side," James comforted, "all of us, me, your mum and Damy," he pointed to the little boy who was already seated on one of the chairs, playing with the plate setting, "you're not alone, Harry. You will never be left alone to deal with your fears again. I promise."

Harry looked across the room, anchoring his gaze on his little brother. Damien smiled brightly at him and waved.

"If you run from your fear, it will only continue to grow," James said, "the only way you're going to get past this, is if you face it head-on," he held onto Harry's hand, "we're right here," he said as Lily took a hold of Harry's other hand, "by your side."

They held his hands but they didn't move, not until Harry took a deep breath and moved forward first. It was only a few steps to the kitchen but to Harry, it felt like the hardest thing he ever had to do. Even leaving Riddle manor and coming back to Godric's Hollow seemed easier in comparison.

They reached the door and Harry stopped, James and Lily stopped with him. Harry kept his eyes on Damien, the little seven year old who was now frowning at his family.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Nothing, Damy." Lily assured.

"Why are you waiting there?" Damien asked.

James and Lily looked at Harry, but he had his gaze stubbornly fixed on Damien, so he didn't have to look around the kitchen. Damien slipped out of his seat and walked over. His hazel gaze moved to Harry's hands, frowning again at the way they were gripped around his mum and dad's hands. He reached out and pushed Lily's hand away.

"Damy-" Lily protested, thinking her youngest was jealous that his mum was holding Harry's hand and not his, but her voice died in her throat when she saw Damien reach out and take Harry's hand instead of hers.

Damien pulled, his face turned to Harry, silently imploring as to why he was so reluctant to come inside. James let go of Harry's hand too, watching as the seven year old took over the responsibility. Damien led Harry past the threshold of the door and into the kitchen. They walked straight to the table and Damien only let go of Harry's hand when both were standing next to the chairs. Damien climbed into his seat and settled, staring at Harry, willing him to so the same. With his eyes still on his brother, Harry pulled the chair out and sat down.

James and Lily hurried in after them. Lily turned quickly to take out the milk from the fridge while James walked over and sat down at the table. Lily brought over the milk and sat down. They had agreed that since it was Harry's first day in the kitchen, they would make it as short and as painless as possible. Breakfast was going to be cereal, no cooking at the stove so hopefully no triggering of nightmarish memories.

Harry kept his eyes trained to the table, not daring to look up. If he could just keep his eyes fixed to the surface of the table, he could pretend he wasn't here. He stayed like that for almost five minutes, as those around him slowly filled their bowls with cereal and milk and sliced strawberries. But Harry's bowl remained empty. Eventually, Lily couldn't stop herself and she reached towards his bowl.

"Do you want me to fill it?"

Harry shook his head, gaze fixed on his mum's hands, but not her face.

"Can't eat." he managed.

"Why?" James asked.

"I'll...I'll throw up."

James and Lily shared a worried look.

Harry's hands were clenched into balls under the table. It was starting, the faint echo of his own cries were beginning to get louder in his head. Harry felt like the room was closing down on him, an invisible force pulling at him.

"Harry?"

His mum caressed his hair but Harry couldn't stop the flinch. His screams rang in his head and instinctively Harry turned his head towards the stove in the corner.

_'No dad! Please don't! Please dad, I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything! Please don't, no, please, no!'_

Harry shut his eyes but it only made the screaming louder in his head.

"Harry?" James' hand shook Harry's shoulder, forcing the boy to open his eyes.

Pained emerald met hazel.

"Dad," Harry gasped, "I-I can't-"

James was up on his feet, before Harry could even finish. A firm grip on Harry's arm steered him straight from the table to the back door and in moments, Harry was sitting on the steps to the garden, breathing in huge gasps of cold March air. James was sitting next to him, gently patting the back of Harry's head.

"Just breathe, that's it, just take deep breaths," he encouraged, "that's it, Harry, just breathe."

Slowly, Harry calmed down. The echoes that had tormented him, died down again, leaving Harry tired and upset, with that horrible sting of vulnerability biting at his insides. He shook his head and reached up to rub at his eyes. James moved closer, holding Harry's shivering body a little closer to his.

"I'm sorry." Harry whispered.

James leaned in closer.

"Sorry?" he asked, "about what?"

"About...everything," Harry replied, "I'm sorry that I'm...I'm like this," he shook his head in self-blame, "I can't even sit with you at the family table," both hands clenched into fists, "I'm sorry."

It was a word he wasn't actively encouraged to use, not unless it was directed at his father, _Voldemort_. But Harry knew he had to apologise, it was needed in this instance, regardless of his difficulty in saying the word.

"Harry," James started quietly, "why are you apologising? Can't you see it?"

Harry looked up at him with a frown.

"See what?"

"What you did?" James asked, "before, you couldn't even step foot in the kitchen. Today, you sat for almost seven minutes at the kitchen table," James smiled, "that's progress and it's bloody amazing if you ask me."

Harry shifted to look around at him.

"But I didn't eat with you. Wasn't that the point? To have Breakfast?"

James' smile struggled to stay put.

"Yes," he admitted quietly," but that will come in due time. If you're willing to, you can work your way up, spend a little more time each day, sitting in the kitchen. Over time, it will make you more comfortable and one day, you might even be able to eat with us."

Harry didn't know what to say. He stared at his dad.

"Baby steps, Harry," James smiled, "that's all me and your mum want from you. Small, baby steps towards building new memories."

Harry swallowed heavily but he nodded. He would like that. He would actually love it, more than anything, to make new, happier memories here in Godric's Hollow. Maybe then, one day, he wouldn't remember Voldemort's trickery and cruelty at all.

James wrapped an arm around Harry, driving warmth into Harry's cold body.

"It's a little too chilly to sit out here and have breakfast." James said.

Harry smiled, nodding.

"Yeah," he muttered, "it's a shame though. It's nice to be out in the open."

"Well, then," a voice said from behind, making Harry and James look around, "cold or not, we'll just have to eat here." Lily smiled.

She handed Harry his bowl, filled with strawberries, cornflakes and sweet milk, before handing James his leftover bowl. Damien bounced down the steps to come sit between Harry and James, sloshing most of his milk down his front. Lily appeared a moment later, holding a large woolly blanket. She wrapped it around Harry, Damien and James, laughing as the three huddled closer, under the blanket, bowls still clutched in their hands.

Lily stood and stared at the three, smiling despite the way her heart ached. It was a long road to recovery but they would get there. Harry would heal, eventually. She and James, and it seemed little Damy, were going to make sure of it. Smiling, she tuned around to fetch her leftover bowl, so she could join her family on the steps to the back garden and finish breakfast.

xxx

The days slowly turned to weeks. The whole of March went by but with it Harry progressed bit by bit, staying at the kitchen table for longer and longer periods of time. He had yet to eat there. He got as far as to fill his plate but he couldn't bring himself to actually eat anything. Mealtimes ended with Harry and his family going to the living room to finish eating. It was tiresome and somewhat annoying, but the Potter family did it without complaint, for Harry's sake.

"It's...it's just...I was never allowed to...to you know...eat at the table," Harry tried to explain, "it just...it brings back all these feelings..."

But James and Lily would nod with pained expressions and tight lips.

"Just take your time, Harry," they would reply, "you're doing well, just take it one day at a time."

xxx

It was the middle of April before the cold, wet and miserable weather finally calmed down to dry but chilly, windy days. It was good enough for James, who had been itching to play Quidditch with Harry.

"You still need your cloak." Lily insisted, holding up the garment as she hurried behind them.

"It'll be fine," James replied, "once the game starts up, they'll get warmed up."

"What do you know?" Lily remarked and wrapped a cloak around Harry's shoulders.

"Um, nothing," James replied, "I've only been playing the sport, oh, I don't know, my whole life!"

Lily raised an eyebrow.

"Men and their exaggerations," she muttered, "I don't care how long you've been playing. It's still chilly and it could rain any minute, so if you insist on playing today, it's going to be with cloaks on." she held out his cloak.

"Fine." James grabbed it and hastily threw it on.

Smiling in triumph, Lily bent low to put the last one on Damien and fastened it.

James rubbed his hands in glee, eyes sparkling at Harry and Damien.

"You boys ready?"

Damien nodded enthusiastically.

Harry just shrugged.

"If you insist." he muttered.

"Oh, Harry," James knelt before him, hands clutched in classic prayer position, "please, _please_ don't take after your mother, not when it comes to Quidditch. Please!"

Lily tutted at him, shaking her head before turning to go back into the living room.

Harry couldn't help but grin.

"I don't have an opinion yet," he assured, "depends how well this game goes."

James held onto Harry's shoulders in mocked dramatics.

"It'll be good! No, it'll be spectacular! No, wait, it'll be out-of-this-world- fantastic!"

The floo went off and Remus appeared, broomstick in hand. He walked out of the fireplace and stared at James, kneeling before Harry, holding onto his shoulders. He shook his head.

"Begging already?" he asked, "we haven't even started playing yet, right Harry?" he winked at the boy who just smiled back.

"Oh yeah?" James got to his feet, "Harry's playing on my team, so you're the one who'll be begging us for sweet, _sweet_ mercy!"

Harry grimaced at James' word choice but nobody noticed.

"No way," Remus shook his head, "I'm playing on Harry's side."

"I'm playing on Harry's side." James insisted.

The floo went off a second time and Sirius appeared, also carrying his prized broomstick.

"What's up, soon-to-be-losers," he grinned at his friends. Then, winking at Damien and Harry, "except for you boys, you'll be playing on my side."

Harry found himself smiling as the three fully grown men argued and fought over who got to be in his team.

"I'm his dad!" James said, "I get to be on Harry's side."

"If you're going to play that card," Sirius said, "I'm throwing down my 'Godfather' ace. He's in my team."

"I'm the only decent player out of you two," Remus said, "I get to show Harry how to _really_ play."

"I have an idea," Harry said, attracting the attention of the trio, "how about me and Damy against you three?"

The men were stunned into silence.

"But, you've never played before," James said, "you need someone on your team."

"I have Damy," Harry pointed out, "he's played before, right?"

"Yeah, but," James looked from Damien to Harry, "it'll still be three against two and well, Damy's...you know...only seven."

Harry grinned at Damien's narrowed eyes.

"You said I was a big boy!" Damien reminded James.

"You are," James replied, "but-"

"Then I play with Harry," Damien folded his arms, pouting, "against you."

"Damy-"

"No," Damien cut James off, "I'm a big boy. Me and Harry against all of you." he turned, grabbed Harry's sleeve and pulled him along, "come on, Harry, let's go."

A bemused Harry left with Damien, heading to the back garden, while the three men looked between themselves.

"I guess we better prepare to lose to two boys." Remus sighed.

"What? Why?" Sirius asked.

"You want to defeat Damy?" Remus asked.

Sirius waited a little too long to answer.

"Sirius!" Remus snapped, "he's seven!"

"I know," Sirius moaned, "but I hate losing." he whined.

"Suck it up, losers," James said, adjusting his cloak, "it's Harry's first game and we're playing against Damien," he shook his head, smiling, "we're gonna lose, _spectacularly_."

xxx

Harry found very quickly, that he loved Quidditch. More accurately, he loved flying. The exhilaration of being up in the open air, the wind ruffling through his hair. There was nothing quite like it.

As for the game itself? It was enjoyable for the most part, but what Harry enjoyed wasn't catching the Quaffle or chasing the Golden Snitch. It was flying around with his dad and brother, trying not to fall down with laughter at the hilarity Sirius and Remus usually provided.

As time progressed, the weather got slightly better, with cold but dry days. Which meant Harry could spend more time outside, which served to make him very happy. Harry found himself instigating a game of Quidditch more often now, or what was actually a simpler version of it, since they didn't have enough people for a proper game. James would play with him on the weekends, joined by Remus and Sirius, but the rest of the time it was just him and Damien.

It was a crisp Saturday morning in May, when Harry woke up to loud excited chattering coming from downstairs. Harry walked into the kitchen to find Sirius already over, sipping coffee from a mug as he stood talking to James. Lily was at the cooker, making scrambled eggs. They all looked over at him, smiling brightly.

"Morning!" they chorused.

"Morning." Harry replied.

He walked over and sat down at the table, joining Damien who was chewing sleepily on his toast, ignoring his eggs.

James and Sirius hurried over.

"Guess what?" Sirius asked, grinning as he sat across from him.

"I'll tell him," James said, sitting next to Harry, "I have something for you." he pulled a small, rectangular envelope from his pocket and placed it next to Harry's hand, "for you." he beamed.

Harry eyed it curiously, before picking it up, looking at the simple, unmarked envelope.

"Open it!" Sirius was practically jumping in his chair, "open it! open it!"

"Alright, Sirius, alright," Lily patted his shoulder before placing the large platter of scrambled eggs and fresh buttered toast on the table, "give Harry a chance."

Harry opened the envelope and pulled out a thin, rectangular ticket. There was a seat number printed on the side and across the front of the ticket were the words, _'European Cup; Vratsa Vultures versus Appleby Arrows'._ There was today's date, _'The Tenth Day of the Month of May, of the year Nineteen Ninety One.'_ Harry looked up at his dad's grinning face.

"Surprise!" Sirius yelled, "do you like it?"

Harry shrugged.

"I might if I knew what it was."

"It's your ticket," James explained with a warm smile, "for the Quidditch game this afternoon."

"I figured that part out," Harry smiled, "but why is it so exciting?"

"Harry," Sirius pulled the ticket out of Harry's hand and held it up, "Vultures versus Arrows? Do you have any idea what this game is?"

Harry shook his head.

"No."

Sirius face palmed, shaking his head.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," he said with exaggerated sadness, "the history behind these teams is legendary!" he leaned forward, elbows on the table, "okay, so the Vultures, they were the European champions, until 1932 that is. The match that took place that year had the Vultures up against the Arrows-"

"Did you see that match?" Harry teased, scooping a spoonful of eggs onto his plate.

"Ha ha! Very funny," Sirius dove right back into his storytelling, "so, the match was as intense as it comes. It went on for sixteen days-"

"Sixteen days?" Harry asked, genuinely shocked, "they were that bad?" he picked up a slice of toast.

"No, they both were that good," Sirius said, "the match was one that went down in history as the most upsetting and nerve-wracking match of that century."

"So, who won?" Harry asked.

"The Arrows," Sirius shook his head, "it was a devastating blow to the Vultures, who had been the undefeated champions up until then," he smiled, "but now, after almost sixty years, the Vultures are going to face the Arrows again to reclaim their victory and glory."

Harry scooped up a forkful of eggs and laid it on top of his toast.

"I'm not waiting sixteen days to see the end of a match." he said.

"I hope it takes a month this time." Sirius said, dreamy-eyed, "can you imagine? No work, no home, just endless Quidditch."

"Doesn't sound that appealing." Harry said with a smirk, before taking a bite of his toast and eggs.

Lily stood to the side, mesmerised by the sight. She had been waiting for this. For this exact moment; when Harry would sit at the table in the kitchen and eat. And the strange thing was, Harry wasn't even aware of it. Her moist green eyes met James' stunned ones and she quickly held up a finger to her lips. She didn't want Harry to realise what he had done. She didn't want anyone to bring focus on it, for fear that Harry might close up again.

James stayed at the table, both hands clasped and resting against his mouth, as he stared at Harry. Sirius was still going on about the Vultures and the Arrows and what this game meant while Harry munched through his breakfast, grinning and shaking his head at Sirius, so lost in teasing Sirius, he wasn't aware he finished his breakfast.

"You do realise the Arrows winning was probably a set up right?" he asked.

"What!" Sirius' eyes were almost as round as his open mouth, "why in Merlin's white beard, would the Vultures give up their title as champions?"

"I'll give you a hint," Harry said, wiping his mouth clean with a napkin, "they're small and gold, and they make this really sweet rattling sound when you've got lots and lots of them in your pocket."

"Oh, come on," Sirius said, "money? You think the Vultures were bought to lose?" he turned to James, "Prongs? What do you think?"

Harry turned to his dad as well.

James had to take a moment to swallow the lump at the back of his throat. He pulled his hands away and cleared his throat.

"I think..." he stared at his son, "that Harry makes a lot of sense."

Harry beamed and Sirius made odd chocking noises in protest.

"You both don't know what you're talking about," he said, "the Vultures are Bulgarian. They have Quidditch in their blood. They would never be involved in any game fixing, ever!"

Sitting next to him, Damien finally woke up.

"Yeah! Bulgaria!" he held up the last bit of his toast soldier, nodding at Sirius, "right, uncle Siri?"

"Right!" Sirius nodded before ruffling Damien's hair.

James, however, had eyes only for Harry and his finished breakfast plate.

"You...um..." he pointed to Harry's clothes, "you better get changed. We have to leave soon."

Harry picked up his ticket and got up. It wasn't until he was in his room, taking clothes out of his dresser, that it dawned on him what had happened. He had finished his breakfast in the kitchen. He didn't have any flashbacks. He didn't hear any of his own past screams echoing in his head. He had been distracted by Sirius and the Quidditch game. Harry felt a smile, impossibly wide, split across his face. He had done it. It had happened and he didn't even realise it until later.

Harry pulled out his top, grinning from ear to ear. Even the sight of the Gypsy coin, still glittering at the bottom of his dresser, couldn't dampen his spirits. Harry got changed, pulled on his shoes and left his room, clutching his Quidditch ticket. He headed out with his family to watch his very first Quidditch World Cup match.

xxx

The game was like nothing Harry had ever seen. The stadium was the single most breathtaking sight, with lights hovering in the air, crowds and crowds of spectators waving their flags in support of the teams. The chatter in the air, the excitement of the crowd, the sight of the fourteen players flying on their broomsticks as the game began, it was enough to mesmerise Harry. All he could focus on was the game; the way the golden hoops sparkled in the spotlight, the grace and ease with which the players flew with the Quaffle, the excited chanting of the crowd when they spotted the tiny, golden snitch fluttering around the field.

James leaned down to talk into Harry's ear.

"Having fun?"

Harry couldn't take his eyes away from the game.

"Yeah," he breathed, "it's...amazing. More than I could've ever imagined."

James sat up, grinning widely. The Potter family, including Sirius and Remus, the Weasleys and the Longbottoms were all seated in one box. But everyone was too focused on the game, including Lily, Molly and Alice, to do much talking. James had bought all the kids snacks and large tubs of pumpkin juice, in case it was a 'long game'. Of course that meant a few hours later, Harry had a desperate need to empty his bladder.

"It can't wait?" James asked.

"No, it really, really can't." Harry said, almost apologetic that he was going to miss part of the game.

"Come on, then," James got up, "Damy, you need to use the toilet?"

Damien shook his head, sucking on the straw in his tub of juice.

"Not now, he doesn't," Harry said, "but later...?"

"Your mum will have to take him." James said and guided Harry to the door.

"It's okay, I can find the toilets by myself." Harry said, stopping James from following him out.

"Don't be silly," James said, "it's mobbed out here. You could easily get lost," he nodded to the door, "I'm coming with you."

"But you'll miss the game." Harry said.

"I'd rather miss the game than miss you," James said, "come on."

They left the spectator box and headed in the direction of the toilets.

"It's always as far away from the stadium as possible." James griped.

But soon they reached the portacabin with 'Male Restroom' hanging over the door. Harry opened the door and James made to follow him in but suddenly stopped and took a step back.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"Nothing," James said, "I just realised, I don't have to go," he nodded towards the door, "I'll wait here for you."

"Okay." Harry said, a little confused.

He walked inside to find a large spacious restroom, with sinks lined along one side and three cubicles on the other. The doors to all three were closed but only one seemed to be occupied. Harry hurried to the first vacant one. He heard the door to the other cubicle opening and footsteps going towards the sink, but Harry didn't pay it much notice. It was only when Harry opened the door to his cubicle to step out that he noticed the restroom was still empty. Harry walked over to the sinks to wash his hands, feeling a strange prickle run down his spine. He turned around and stopped short.

Standing before him, dressed in long black robes, was Bellatrix Lestrange.

At first, Harry didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to think. He just stood there, staring at Bella, dumbstruck at her sudden appearance. Bella was smiling at him, her dark eyes drinking in his form, from head to foot. She cocked her head to the side and opened her mouth.

"Harry."

The sound of his name on her lips wrenched him out of his numbed state and Harry took a staggering step back.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in a horrified whisper.

Bella smiled.

"I came to see you."

Harry shook his head.

"How did you know I was going to be here?"

Bella laughed softly and it pierced Harry's heart. He realised how much he had missed that sound.

"You seem to be forgetting," she took a step forward, "we have eyes and ears all over the world."

Harry swallowed heavily, his gaze darted to the door and his heart thumped painfully fast.

"Is...is he...?"

Bella grew a little solemn, the smile disappeared from her face and her eyes grew colder.

"No," she said, "Master isn't here," she stepped closer, "it's only me. No more Death Eaters. Just me."

Harry thought that knowledge would calm him, but instead, he felt a bout of panic explode in the pit of his stomach. It took him a moment to realise he was afraid _for her._

"Why did you come here?" Harry asked now taking a step _towards_ her, "don't you realise how many Aurors are here? You could get caught."

But Bella just stared at Harry, her gaze sad and morose.

"Why Harry?" she asked quietly, "why haven't you come back home?"

Harry bristled.

"I'm already home," he said quietly, "Riddle manor was never my home."

"You don't mean that," Bella said, shaking her head, "I know you and I know you don't mean that. Your home is Riddle manor and your rightful place is by Master's side."

"My rightful place is by my parent's side," Harry replied angrily, "it's over, Bella," he said, "I know your lies now. I know what...what he did," his hands curled into fists, "what _you_ did," his eyes blazed, "I know everything."

Bella smiled, baring her teeth and shook her head.

"You know nothing!" she hissed, "you only saw the past. You don't understand it. We needed to do all that we did. We had to put you through all that pain, it was the only way-"

"The only way for what?" Harry snapped, "the only way to use me?"

"No," Bella shook her head, "the only way to make you strong."

Harry turned away in disgust.

"Please, don't give me your bull about 'breaking just to build stronger' crap. Truth is you helped torture me and you did it just so I would hate my family."

"Your family?" Bella asked, "the same family that couldn't be bothered looking for you? The same family that couldn't protect you in the first place?"

"Don't," Harry warned, "don't even try, Bella. You won't succeed." he looked to the door, "my dad's right outside that door," he warned, "so don't try anything and just...just leave."

"I didn't come here to try anything," Bella said, "if Master wanted you brought by force, you would be at his feet by now," she stepped closer, her eyes wide and panicked, "but you have to come home," she said so quietly, it made chills race up Harry's back, "Master has been waiting for you. It's already been far too many months," she met his eyes, "come home, Harry, please."

"I'm not coming back." Harry stated.

Bella stared at him.

"Don't provoke his anger, Harry," she warned, "Master's already very disappointed with you. He expected you home by now," she shook her head, "it's better if you come back on your own. You know as well as I do, if it comes down to it, Lord Voldemort will destroy everything and everyone to get his way," she paused, dark eyes searching his, "even you."

Harry didn't say anything, but his heart lurched painfully in his chest.

"You better go," he said quietly, "my dad's just outside-"

"The door's got a 'keep away' charm on it." Bella explained, "you're the only one I allowed past it."

Harry realised that's why his dad was stopped from coming inside. It was Bella's spell.

"It won't last forever," Harry pointed out, "and if my dad comes in and sees you here, he'll...he'll kill you."

Bella smiled again.

"If I don't kill him first."

Harry's pain showed on his face and he had to force himself to take a deep breath in. He couldn't bear the thought of anyone attacking his dad but at the same time, he couldn't stand for Bella to get hurt either.

"Please," he whispered, "go, before someone sees you."

"I'll go," Bella said, and she reached out, gently caressing Harry's face, "but you promise me, promise you will come back soon."

Harry shook his head.

"Never Bella, not while I'm still breathing."

Bella dropped her hand away and stared at Harry with heavy disappointment.

"Then so be it," she said, "hold on to what you have Harry, for as long as you can, because _he'll_ tear everything around you to shreds."

Harry stared at her, unable to find his voice to speak.

The door to the restroom suddenly glowed around the edges, a bright blue before it faded. Not a moment later, it clicked open and James appeared.

"Harry? You about don-"

He paused, shocked to the spot.

Bella met his eyes and even smirked at him. She turned to look back at Harry, who looked like he had forgotten how to breathe. James' hand disappeared into his robes for his wand and Harry reacted.

"NO!" he rushed to stand before Bella, terrified that Bella would take out her wand and end his dad's life in a single strike.

But by the time James had his wand aimed, Bella was gone with a loud pop of disapparation.

Harry was left standing on his own, to meet his dad's horrified gaze.

xxx

James paced the living room, trying to find the words to speak. Harry was seated on the sofa, Sirius on one side and Lily on his other. Remus had taken Damien upstairs to put to bed.

James opened and closed his mouth several times, but his voice just wouldn't co-operate with him. Eventually he managed a single word.

"Why?" he gasped, stopping to stare at Harry, "I just...I'm trying to understand...just...why? Why did you stand in the way?"

Harry didn't answer, not right away.

Lily wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"We're not angry at you, Harry," she hurried to explain, "it's just...we need to understand, why you behaved in such a way?"

"You protected her?" James asked, "protected Bellatrix Lestrange?"

Harry finally, gave a shake of his head.

"No," he uttered, "I was protecting you."

James stilled.

"What?" Lily asked.

"I was protecting dad," Harry explained, "Bella...she's faster than dad. If she attacked, she would have...have killed him." Harry looked up to meet his dad's eyes, "I stood in the way so she wouldn't hit you."

James swallowed heavily. He walked over and knelt on the carpet, before Harry.

"You don't have to protect me," he said, "I'm here to protect you. Don't try and flip it on it's head."

Harry looked down, choosing to stare at the floor instead of his dad's face.

"What was she doing there?" James asked and the anger was back in his voice.

"She came to warn me."

"She threatened you?" Sirius asked, blue eyes livid.

"No, warn me." Harry corrected.

"Warn you about what?" Lily asked.

Harry fell quiet.

"Harry," James' fingers tilted Harry's chin up so he could meet his son's eyes, "don't hide this from us. Tell us what she said to you."

Harry took in a breath, looking down at his hands again.

"Voldemort...he...he wants me to come back," Harry started, "on my own. He thinks that...that I won't like living with you. That you'll...you'll not want me to stay with you." Harry paused, swallowing down the rest of that explanation, the reason why Voldemort thought Harry would be disowned.

"What kind of nonsense is that?" Lily asked, "why would we not want you to be with us?"

Harry gave a weak shrug.

"That's what he said to me, that day, in Diagon Alley," he met his dad's eyes, "that's why he didn't take me with him. He said that he wouldn't have to. That...that I would come myself."

James cursed under his breath, hazel eyes alight with rage.

"Why didn't you tell us about this before?" he asked.

"I...I didn't...I thought maybe...you..."

"You thought it might be true?" Lily realised, "oh, Harry," she hugged him, holding him close, "darling, there's nothing, _nothing_ that would make us not want to be with you. You have to know that."

Harry didn't say anything.

"So is that what Bellatrix came to say?" James asked, "to warn you to come back?"

Harry nodded, sitting up straight, released from Lily's embrace.

"That little bi...!" James pressed his lips together, forcing the vulgar name back. He closed his eyes and forced out a long sigh, in effort to calm down.

"She didn't try anything?" Sirius asked, "didn't try to force you to come with her?"

Harry shook his head.

Remus suddenly appeared at the door.

"Sorry, Lily, but Damy's just not calming down with me," he apologised, "he wants you and James to come up and tell him his bedtime story. Apparently my three aren't up to par."

James and Lily shared a look.

"It'll just be ten minutes." Lily said to Harry, who only nodded at her.

James and Lily left to go upstairs. Remus ruffled Harry's hair.

"How about a mug of hot chocolate?" he offered, "I make a real mean cup. Not as good as your mum's but, I do put in extra marshmallows."

Harry didn't have it in him to say no so he nodded with a tired smile.

"I'll be right back." Remus hurried to the kitchen, leaving only Sirius and Harry on the sofa.

Harry leaned back and let out a sigh. Sirius watched him with a heavy heart.

"I can imagine how hard this is," Sirius said quietly, "she...um...Bellatrix," he paused, "she's my cousin."

Harry closed his eyes.

"I know," he muttered, "she told me."

Sirius nodded.

"We used to be close, once-upon-a-time," he smiled sadly, "even though I know that she's not the same Bell anymore, I hate the thought of something bad happening to her."

Harry opened his eyes and turned to look at Sirius.

"Really?" he asked.

"Yeah, really," Sirius looked at Harry, "I want you to know...I get it. I know why you protected her. Even though you were protecting James, a part of you was protecting her too, but I understand it."

Harry remained silent. He let out a sigh.

"I know it's weird," he said, "I know everything she's done. I know she was...it was her...who pretended to be...mum," he closed his eyes, scrunching them tight, "but even so, I can't stand the thought of her hurt."

It was a good thing Harry's eyes were closed, so he didn't see the expression of Sirius' face or the anger light his blue eyes.

"You know who they are?" he asked, "the ones in your...your memories?"

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, Peter...he told me."

"What did he say?" Sirius asked.

Harry opened his eyes but he didn't look over at Sirius. He gaze was fixed on the ceiling.

"He said that Bella pretended to be mum and...and Voldemort," he forced the words out, "he pretended to be dad and...Lucius-" he suddenly stopped, eyes widening before he turned to look at Sirius, "Shit," he cursed and sat up, "Sirius, don't say anything, to anyone, please-"

"We already know Malfoy is a Death Eater," Sirius said, the words forced past the rage building in him. "Lucius Malfoy? He's the one that pretended to be me?" he asked. He needed to be sure.

Harry stared at Sirius warily but slowly nodded his head.

"Yeah, he pretended to be you." he sat up straighter, "but you say a word of this to anyone and I'll deny it," he warned, "I don't want to confirm to the Order or the Ministry that Lucius is a Death Eater," he said, "if you're my Godfather and it means anything to you, then you won't mention that I told you Lucius is a Death Eater."

"Don't worry, Harry," Sirius managed in a shaky voice, "I won't tell anyone Malfoy is a Death Eater," he promised, making Harry relax, "it won't matter," he continued, "because I'm about to kill that bastard with my bare hands."

Harry stared at him in shock.

"Sirius?"

But Sirius leapt from the sofa and thundered out of Godric's Hollow, ignoring the way Harry called out to him again and again.

xxx

It wasn't difficult to find out where Lucius Malfoy was. A wizard with such social standings as the likes of Lucius Malfoy, could easily he tracked and found, at some high profiled gathering. Tonight, it seemed the aristocrat Lucius Malfoy was attending a dinner party with his wife and five of the wealthiest wizards around the world.

They were at the expensive wizard restaurant, that only allowed Pure Bloods into their establishment. Not so much as a open requirement but one that everyone was aware of nonetheless.

Lucius was busy toasting the success of one of his associates, seated at the grand table, when Sirius forced his way into the restaurant. Being an Auror and the only heir of the noble house of Black, he was allowed in without a second thought. But even if he wasn't a Pure blood, nothing could have stopped Sirius tonight. He was so angry, he was literally shaking. His eyes were bloodshot, fists were clenched and his sights were for Malfoy only. He spotted him from afar, holding up his glass, smiling and midway through his speech.

Sirius tore across the room, heading straight for Malfoy. Lucius noted the strange expression on one of his associates, that led him to turn around, looking for the source of the confusion. What he saw, was an enraged Sirius Black coming straight for him. Lucius didn't even get the chance to put his glass down.

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Sirius yelled and pulled back his arm to deck Lucius right in the face.

Lucius fell sideways, out of his chair, the wine spilt all over his face and hair. Gasps echoed around the room. The people seated at Lucius' table all stood up but no one dared to stop Sirius, who towered over Lucius' sprawled form. Sirius grabbed the blond by the front of his robes, before his fist connected with flesh again.

"You think you'll get away with what you did!" Sirius raged, "You son-of-a-bitch! You hurt my Godson! You sick fuck!" again and again Sirius punched Lucius, in the face, the nose, the chin, the neck, wherever he could. Blood smeared Sirius' knuckles alongside bruises that were just forming, but it didn't stop Sirius. "You tortured a little boy! You hurt Harry, for what? What did you get out of it?" Sirius asked, "I'm going to kill you! I'm going to kill you for what you did, you bastard!"

Sirius was pulled away from a bloodied Lucius by three men, belonging to the establishment. They wrestled Sirius away, but only just managed as the Auror bucked and struggled in their grasp, trying to get free.

"Let me go!" he growled, "I'm going to tear you apart, Malfoy! You mark my words! I'm gonna rip your fucking cold heart out, you son-of-a-bitch!"

Lucius was helped to his feet by the people around his table, staring at the bloodied man with concern. But Lucius' grey eyes were narrowed and fixed on Sirius, as he was manhandled to the door.

"I'm going to kill you!" Sirius yelled, "mark my words, Malfoy, I'm going to kill you for what you did to Harry!"

Sirius was pulled out of the restaurant, but his words had become imprinted on everyone's minds. The chattering of the surrounding people got stronger, as every eye turned to seek out Lucius, wondering what had happened. If what the dark haired man had said was in fact true? Who was Harry? What had Lucius Malfoy done?

Lucius waved a hand in dismissal to the several waiter and waitresses that hurried to his side. He would see to his injuries himself. He held a napkin to his broken, bleeding nose before his gaze found his wife. Narcissa was staring at him, without a hint of sympathy anywhere in her eyes. She was the only one at their table to remain seated. She lifted up her glass, met Lucius' gaze and raised her drink in a mocked toast, before swallowing back the last of her wine in a single gulp.

xxx


	12. Living in a Dream

**Disclaimer** I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

**Chapter Twelve**

The door to Godric's Hollow opened and James walked in, followed by Remus and a disgruntled looking Sirius. As soon as the door closed, Lily appeared in the hallway, green eyes narrowed in concern. She took in the sight of the three solemn and agitated men and her heart dropped to her stomach.

"What happened?" she asked, turning to look at Sirius, "where did you go?"

Sirius didn't answer, shuffling past her to go into the living room. Lily turned to her husband.

"James? What happened?"

James didn't answer right away and glanced once to the stairs.

"The boys?" he asked.

"They're upstairs, asleep," Lily replied, "will you tell me what happened? Where did Sirius go?"

James nodded to the room and led Lily inside with Remus behind them. Sirius sat down on the sofa, uncharacteristically quiet, hands clasped before him and eyes staring aimlessly ahead. That's when Lily noticed the bruises on Sirius' knuckles.

"What happened?" she asked breathlessly, "Sirius, what did you do?"

Sirius didn't answer, Remus did it for him.

"He barged into Le Grand Goût, to beat the crap out of Lucius Malfoy."

Lily's mouth dropped open, she stared from Remus to Sirius.

"What?" she exclaimed, "why? Why would you do that?"

Again, Sirius didn't reply. He just sat there, jaw clenched and blue eyes ablaze.

"Sirius?" Lily knelt before him, one hand on his shoulder, "Why did you go after Malfoy?"

Sirius closed his eyes and shook his head a little.

"Tell her, Sirius," James spoke quietly, "tell her what you told us."

Sirius turned to glance up at James but didn't speak. The look in Sirius' eyes was one Lily had never seen before. A look that held pain beyond belief and anger beyond control.

"Go on," James prompted, "tell her what Harry told you; that Lucius Malfoy was the one that pretended to be you."

Understanding, at last, filled Lily and she sat back on her knees, staring at James. Slowly, her gaze dropped to Sirius and she found herself at a loss for words. Sirius purposefully avoided her gaze, turning his face away from her.

"And after finding this out, what does Sirius do?" James asked, anger seeping into his words, "he doesn't come to me or Remus with the information. No, that would be too sensible for Sirius Black." he looked down at Sirius' silent form, "he bursts into the restaurant and in front of forty witnesses, he pummels Lucius Malfoy into the ground, beating him with his fists no less, until the security throws him out and calls the Aurors." James tore his gaze from Sirius to Lily, "Kingsley took the call and thank Merlin for that, cause if it was someone else, Sirius would be sitting in a cell about now."

"It would've been worth it." Sirius muttered.

James turned, hazel eyes burning with anger.

"Excuse me?" he seethed.

Sirius turned to look at him.

"It would still have been worth it." he repeated.

"Have you lost your mind?" James asked, "you realise what you've done?"

"I've not done anything," Sirius replied, "I was pulled away before I could do anything to that piece of shit!"

"Malfoy won't take this humiliation lying down," Remus said, quietly, "he's going to use this against you."

"You've already been suspended until further investigation," James said to Sirius, "and since you attacked Malfoy in front of witnesses, people that will happily testify against you, you've effectively lost your job!"

"I don't care." Sirius replied.

"Sirius?" Lily was stunned. If there was anyone that thrived on being an Auror, it was Sirius.

"I mean it, I don't care." Sirius told her. "I would gladly sacrifice a thousand jobs for the chance to kill that heartless bastard!"

"You don't think I would do the same?" James asked angrily, "you think you're the only one who wants to exact revenge? You think I can watch that bastard, the one that helped torture _my son, _walk around with his head held high?" James seethed, "no, Sirius, I want to kill Malfoy with my bare hands!" he paused, breathing heavily, eyes glistening with anger and pain, "but now, Malfoy's aware that we know what he did. He'll have protection; Ministry approved, _fucking_ protection, which makes it all the more difficult to get to him!" his anger was such, he was shaking, "if you had just waited, we could've got that bastard when he was alone. No witnesses, no proof!"

"James." Lily protested weakly.

Sirius didn't say anything. He simply stared at James, noting the rage in his eyes. He knew James was deadly serious. He would kill Malfoy with next to no hesitation, especially after everything Malfoy had done to Harry.

"I couldn't stop myself," Sirius explained, "the minute Harry told me," he shook his head, eyes slipping shut, "I just...I felt like I couldn't...couldn't breathe," he looked up at James, "not until I took that sadistic bastard's life!"

Lily rested a hand on Sirius' knee.

"You can't think like that." she said quietly.

"Why not?" Sirius asked, "Malfoy can do as he pleases? hurt a child, a _barely_ three year old child, stand back and watch the brutality inflicted on him but _I_ can't do anything to _him?_" he asked angrily.

"You're not like him," Lily explained, "none of us are like them," she looked up at her husband and Remus, "what they did to my son, they will pay for it, with their lives," she said with quiet determination, "but not like this," she looked at Sirius, "not by taking the law in our own hands."

"People like Lucius Malfoy have the law in their pocket," Sirius said, "he shakes his money bag and the Ministry falls over itself, trying to please him."

"That's not true," Lily said, "not all of the Ministry is corrupted," she looked meaningfully at the three Aurors "there are still those that are good and loyal."

"Well, there'll be one less now," Sirius scoffed, "Malfoy will want my badge for attacking him and you know what? he can _fucking_ have it!" he shook his head, eyes burning, "he can get me suspended, hell, he can even have me locked up! It still won't stop me from ripping him to pieces!"

"Sirius," Lily objected. Her tone changed suddenly and she straightened up, "Sirius." she whispered, eyes fixed to something behind him.

Sirius frowned and turned around to see Harry at the door. All four adults stared at the ten year old in surprise, but Harry had eyes only for Sirius. Slowly, Harry walked in, coming to Sirius' side, his young face shadowed with shock and sadness.

"You lost your job?" he asked quietly.

"I've not lost my job," Sirius replied, "not yet, anyway."

"But, you think you will?" Harry asked, "because you attacked Lucius?" Harry shook his head at Sirius' silence, "why did you do that, Sirius? Why did you risk your job?"

Sirius held Harry's gaze.

"Because there are some things more important than a job," he replied, "some things that are worth risking everything for."

Harry fell quiet, staring at Sirius with big green eyes. Sirius smiled at Harry before pulling him closer and hugging him tightly, holding the boy to his chest. Harry put his arms around Sirius, hugging him back, and Sirius could swear he heard a whispered, 'thank-you' in his ear.

xxx

The marauders' suspicions were confirmed in the coming weeks, when Sirius was officially found guilty of one count of battery and assault, a charge filed against him by Lucius Malfoy. After several weeks investigation and over twenty witness statements, all confirming they saw Auror Sirius Black walk into Le Grand Goût and attack Lucius Malfoy without any provocation, the verdict was announced.

James and Remus attended the hearing with Sirius, while Lily and Harry waited outside the room.

"I still think you should have stayed at the Burrow with Damy," Lily worried, "I don't like you being here today, it's too stressful."

"I want to be here," Harry replied, "it's my fault Sirius is in this situation."

"It's not your fault," Lily defended quickly, "don't you think like that."

The doors to the private meeting room opened and James and Remus stepped out. Lily and Harry leapt up at once, hurrying to their side.

"What happened?" Lily asked.

James' expression alone told Harry things didn't go well.

"Sirius is suspended from duty." James informed heavily.

Lily gasped.

"For how long?" she asked.

"Three months," James sighed, "and ordered to pay a sum of Two Thousand Galleons as compensation to Lucius Malfoy, or face four months in Azkaban."

Harry felt his stomach tighten with disgust.

"How did Sirius take it?" he asked.

"He's fine," Remus answered, "he actually smiled at the verdict."

Sirius walked out with Auror Henderson, Head of the Auror department. Sirius smiled broadly at Lily and Harry, walking towards them.

"Well, that was interesting." he said.

"Sirius," Lily stepped towards him, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Sirius grinned, "I get three months off to relax and enjoy myself _and_ I get to throw money at that son-of-" he stopped, glancing at Harry, "that excuse of a human being, along with a handful of well chosen hexes-"

"Sirius," Harry warned, "don't do anything, please."

"Sorry champ," Sirius winked, "this is one time, I'll have to disobey you."

"Come on," Remus sighed, "we need a drink."

"And some lunch," Sirius added, "I'm famished."

"What else is new?" Lily smirked, attempting to go back to their usual banter.

They moved towards the exit, but came to a stop at the sight of the blond-haired man, who just walked out of the fireplace. Lucius Malfoy came to a sudden stop too, grey eyes widening at the sight of the group. His gaze moved past the adults, settling on the boy. Harry tensed, his hand in his mum's tightened without him even realising it.

Sirius growled slightly under his breath and Harry looked up to see all three men glaring murderously at Lucius. Forcing himself, Harry walked onwards, the adults around him staring coldly at Lucius. Even Lily was shooting icy glares at the man, who was still standing motionless, watching Harry.

"Better lock your doors this full moon, Malfoy." Sirius said to him, as he walked by.

"You never know what kinds of beasts roam the area." Remus added as he past him.

James paused next to Lucius. He looked Lucius up and down, before meeting his gaze.

"Add the money Sirius is going to give you to your wealth and buy yourself the best protection you can," he snarled, "let's see if it's enough to save you."He glowered at Lucius and walked past him.

Harry pulled at his mum's hand, hurrying to walk past Lucius, not wanting her to stop and threaten him too. They were at least five steps ahead when Lucius finally spoke.

"Harry?"

The five of them stopped, turning around in shock to stare at Lucius. Harry was stunned. He never thought Lucius Malfoy would risk his cover by acknowledging that he knew him. He stared at the man, who was keeping his grey eyes fixed on him and only him.

"May I speak with you?" Lucius asked.

"What'd you say?" James growled, fists clenched and eyes narrowed, "you have a death wish, Malfoy?"

But Lucius was ignoring James. He was ignoring everyone but Harry. His expression was solemn, eyes shadowed as he stared at the boy.

"Please," he said suddenly, "it's important. May we speak?"

Harry stared at him. His grip tightened around his mum's hand.

"No." he said quietly, shaking his head as he stepped away.

James was glowering at Lucius but Harry reached out and pulled at his arm. James allowed himself to turn and walk away. But when he looked back at Lucius, he saw he was still standing there, staring at Harry. James couldn't take it anymore and he stopped near the fireplace, pulling his hand out of Harry's.

"It's okay," he assured at Harry's panicked look, "this won't take long."

He walked back over to Lucius.

"You've just proven you don't possess a shred of decency!" he hissed, "if you did, you wouldn't be able to stand in the same room as Harry, after what you and your _Master_ put him through!"

Lucius visibly bristled but stubbornly kept his gaze locked with James' furious stare.

"Try and talk to my son again and you'll regret it." James warned.

Lucius didn't say anything. James threw him a last disgusted look and walked away, back to his waiting family and friends. Together, they left the Ministry, leaving a sombre looking Lucius Malfoy, quietly staring after them.

xxx

The days turned to weeks and before Harry realised it, the end of July approached, bringing with it an exciting and momentous occasion; Harry's eleventh birthday.

"It has to be either Stanford Hall or Berkeley Hall," Lily said, seated at the table, studying the long list in front of her, "unless you want to rethink the Quidditch theme?"

James jerked his head up from his own list, eyes wide with horror.

"What?" he asked, "why? Why would you suggest rethinking the Quidditch theme?"

"Oh, I don't know," Lily said, sarcasm thick in her tone, "because we can't find suitable venues?"

"Pfft," James waved a hand at her, "we have lots of venues."

"Not ones that allow grown men to fly about like children, throwing Quaffles around." Lily argued.

"Okay, if you're going to do that, get the facts right first," James said, "it's _Quaffle_, singular. There is only one Quaffle, one Snitch but two Bludgers that the Beaters-"

"Oh God, James, stop!" Lily pressed both hands against her ears, "I'm going to have an aneurysm listening to you talk about Quidditch!"

"Don't exaggerate," James said, "you have to know what you're talking about. What if someone overhears you? They'll think the wife of the great James Potter, acclaimed Quidditch player, doesn't know the basics of the sport," his eyes widened comically, "I'll die of shame!"

"Now whose exaggerating?" Lily asked with a half smirk.

"I'll go over the rules and basic theology of Quidditch-" James started.

"La la la la la!" Lily held both hands against her ears, singing loudly, "can't hear you! I can't hear you!"

"The basics of Quidditch is to score as many goals as possible before the Golden Snitch is caught!" James narrated, just as loudly.

The door to the kitchen opened and in walked Harry, Damien in tow. Both boys stopped, staring at their parents. Lily noticed them first and stopped singing, pulling her hands down. James stopped as well, turning to see his boys. Harry raised both eyebrows.

"I'm not even surprised anymore." he commented.

Lily giggled, blushing a little.

"It's your father," she said, "he pulls me down to his level."

"My level?" James asked, "who was singing like a kid, covering her ears?"

"Only because you won't stop talking about Quidditch!" Lily defended.

"Alright, alright," Harry pacified, trying his best to ignore Lily's reference to James as his _father, _"no one says the word Quidditch." he instructed.

"Good idea, Harry." Lily nodded.

"That includes berating it." Harry added.

"Ha ha!" James pointed at his wife.

"Oh, hush!" Lily waved a hand at him.

Harry only smiled and walked across the kitchen, Damien at his heels.

"Coming Harry?" Damien asked, opening the back door.

Harry nodded.

"You go, I'm just coming."

Damien hurried outside into the warm sunshine.

Harry headed to the small cabinet next to the window. It had taken almost four months, but gradually, Harry had grown accustomed to being in the kitchen. Now, he could even move around, take things out of the cupboards, without bringing up his horrendous memories.

Harry opened the medicine cabinet and rummaged in it, pushing vials around, looking for something. Lily watched him, perplexed.

"You need something, Harry?" she asked.

Harry turned back to her with a frown.

"There was a vial of pain relief in here."

"There should be more than just one," Lily replied, "I had eight at the start of the week."

Harry shifted from one foot to the other, avoiding his mum's eyes.

"I...I sort of...used them." he admitted, "but I was sure there was one more in here." he turned to look through the assorted vials again, but he didn't find the pain relief.

Lily got up, hurrying towards him.

"You've been taking pain relief?" she asked, concerned, "what's wrong?"

Harry shook his head.

"Nothing, I...I've just had a...a headache for a few...days." he mumbled, "it doesn't matter," he shut the door to the cabinet, "it's nothing to worry about."

"Is it a headache?" James asked from the table, with serious hazel eyes fixed on Harry, "or is it your scar?"

A tense silence filled the room.

"It's a headache." Harry answered.

"One that lasts days?" James pushed.

Harry's expression darkened.

"It doesn't matter." he mumbled and tried to walk out but Lily was quick to stop him.

"Harry, please," she said, "has your scar been hurting?"

Harry glanced once to James before meeting his mum's eyes. Reluctantly, he nodded.

"A little," he replied, "but it's nothing to worry about."

Lily brushed back his hair and stared at the lightening bolt shaped scar, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"I should have some more pain relief potion upstairs," she said, "and I'm sure I've got some cooling salve somewhere."

"Mum, it's okay." Harry assured but Lily turned and hurried out the door, racing upstairs to get the potion and salve.

Harry was left with James, who got up from the table and made his way closer. He tried to brush back Harry's hair and take a look at the scar for himself but Harry purposefully moved away, going to the sink to get a glass of water, as an excuse. James took in a breath.

"Harry-"

"No." Harry cut him off.

"You don't even know what I was about to say."

"I do," Harry turned around, "you were going to say I need to see a Healer for my scar, but the truth is, I don't need to see anyone. I'm fine."

James paused.

"How many vials of pain relief have you had?" he asked, "eight in the space of what? Four, five days?"

Harry shrugged.

"What does it matter?"

"It matters tremendously," James said, "it matters because a ten year old shouldn't be throwing back two vials of pain relief on a daily basis."

Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Fine," he bit out, "I won't take any pain relief, happy?" he smacked the glass down on the worktop and turned to storm out but James quickly grabbed his arm.

"Harry, hey, wait a minute-"

Harry turned and yanked his arm out of James' grip.

"Don't do that!" he snapped.

"Do what?" James asked, confused.

"Grab me like that," Harry said, "don't...just don't touch me...like that."

James tensed, suddenly aware of how tightly he had held Harry's arm, and what that must have reminded Harry of.

"Sorry!" he breathed, "I'm...I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

Harry shifted, rubbing his arm absently.

"It's fine," he mumbled, "it's fine."

James let out a difficult breath, running a hand through his hair in agitation.

"Here," he pointed to the table, "sit down, Harry, please."

"Damy's waiting for me-"

"It won't take long, promise," James gestured to the table and reluctantly, Harry walked over and sat down. James took the seat opposite him.

"Harry," he breathed, "I'm worried about this," he said honestly, "this whole...scar business," he held Harry's gaze, "it's starting to frighten me. Your scar shouldn't be hurting, and definitely not constantly, to the point that you're having to take two vials of pain relief daily-"

"It's fine," Harry said, moodily, "I won't take any more pain relief if it's such a problem."

"It's not the potion that's the problem!" James couldn't help but snap, "it's the scar! The scar hurting is the problem, Harry and no one here knows how to deal with it. If we can see a professional, they might be able to help-"

"I already told you," Harry replied, "no one can help. There's nothing I can do about the scar, other than gritting my teeth and putting up with it."

James gaped at his ten year old.

"Gritting your teeth and putting up with it?" he repeated, "really, Harry? That's what you believe the solution is? That you're just going to have to put up with the pain?"

Harry paused.

"It doesn't matter what I believe," he said quietly, "all that matters, is the truth."

James stared at him.

"Harry," he shook his head, "please, just let me take you to a Healer. Even if you think it won't help, do it for me."

But Harry shook his head.

"I'm not going to a Healer," he said, "and I'm not talking about this again."

"Harry-" James started just as the door opened and Lily hurried inside, holding three small vials and a tub.

"Here, they are," Lily said, sounding a little out of breath, "I'll have to go down to the Apothecary and get some more. If only we had a lab at home, I could make more of this in a heartbeat."

Harry didn't say anything but took one of vials from his mum and got up.

"Sit down, Harry," Lily instructed, putting the rest of the vials and the tub onto the table, "let me just apply some of this cooling salve-"

"I don't need it," Harry cut her off, but he was looking at James, "the potion is enough. I don't need anything else."

Lily stared at him with confusion.

"Harry-?"

But Harry turned to the door, heading outside to join his brother, all the while uncorking the vial and gulping the potion down in one go.

xxx

The thirty-first of July arrived on a warm, crisp summer's day. The celebration started as soon as Harry woke up and he was repeatedly assured it would continue, well into the night.

"It's the Potter tradition," James explained at the table, where Harry was having his special birthday breakfast, "we party like there's no tomorrow."

Harry munched through his cupcake, complete with candle, shaped pancakes, before drizzling more syrup on his impressive pile.

"What have you planned?" he asked.

"No, no," James waved a finger at him, "not ruining the surprise, no sir."

"Dad," Harry groaned, "just tell me. I'm not good with surprises."

"Don't worry," Lily said, setting down a fresh helping of pancakes, "I supervised him. All the planned surprises are good ones." she winked.

The fireplace in the kitchen went off suddenly and Sirius appeared, holding the biggest balloon bouquet Harry had ever seen. All of the balloons had the number '11' marked in gold on them.

"Happy Birthday, Harry!" Sirius greeted, the minute he stepped out of the fireplace.

"Uncle Siri!" Damien leapt from his chair and ran to the dark haired man, leaping into his arms.

"Hello, pup," Sirius cuddled him, "ooh, pancakes!" he sat down at the table, with Damien in his lap.

"Are those for the Quidditch game?" Harry asked, gesturing to the balloons.

"The game?" Sirius asked, rolling a pancake into a sausage shape, "how would you use balloons in Quidditch?" he asked.

"With those many, I could fly," Harry replied, "who needs a broomstick?"

James chuckled and Lily grinned. Sirius only bit into his pancake, munching loudly.

"Make fun," he said, "but I think you probably could ride those balloons."

"I know I can," Harry replied, "all I need is a seat attached to those ribbons and I'm all set."

The floo went off again and this time, it was Remus who appeared. Harry smiled at the sight, even more so because he wasn't carrying a ridiculous collection of balloons

xxx

Several families were invited to Stanford Hall, for Harry's party, including the Weasley family and the Longbottom family. Lily had also invited her sister, Petunia and her family, but unsurprisingly, they never turned up. They did send a present for Harry though, by muggle post. A box of chocolates, with half of them eaten.

"Why would they send me this?" Harry asked.

"That's probably, Dudley who done that," Damien said, pointing to the half bitten sweets, "he's a bit of a pig."

Harry raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. He dropped the box into the bin as he walked past it.

They all gathered outside Godric's Hollow, Remus and Sirius as well so they could apparate to Stanford Hall. Lily took Damien side-along with her, while James took Harry.

When Harry arrived at the hall, he was rendered speechless at the sight. The party was held outside, in a private garden. There was a Quidditch pitch, with rows and rows of broomsticks, just waiting to be mounted. A long buffet table was set up on one end, with all sorts of treats and refreshments. Harry spotted treacle tarts and apple pies, a running fountain of Every Flavour Beans and a mini model of a mountain with a stream of pumpkin juice running down it.

As soon as Harry arrived, the guests started cheering and singing 'Happy Birthday' to him. It was a little strange to Harry, who until today, had never celebrated his birthday. The attention he was receiving was a little stifling, but Harry smiled and got through it, recognising how much work his parents had put into this.

Harry spotted Neville and Ron, who ran towards him, dressed in their best robes.

"Happy Birthday, mate!" Ron greeted, with a big grin, "bloody awesome party!"

Harry smiled, agreeing whole heartedly.

xxx

By the time Harry returned to Godric's Hollow that night, he was thoroughly exhausted. He had played Quidditch, for what felt like, endless hours. They had so many games, Harry lost count of how many he won and lost. Then there was the cake cutting ceremony, where a ten foot, golden snitch shaped cake was hovered before him. Harry had to fly up to blow out the candles.

Remus and Sirius deposited the colourfully wrapped up presents, boxes and boxes of them, some big, some small, into the living room.

"Alright, I'm calling it a night," Remus said, stifling a yawn, "I'll see you tomorrow, James."

"See you." James waved.

"Bye, Harry." Sirius and Remus greeted before walking out, so they could apparate home.

Lily had already taken a sleeping Damien upstairs, to put him to bed.

Seated on the sofa, James looked over at his tired, but happy looking son.

"Did you enjoy your party?" James asked.

Harry nodded, staring at the small mountain of presents heaped in the middle of the room.

"I really did," he said, "it went beyond my expectations."

James grinned, pleased with himself.

"That's good."

"I'm so tired, I don't have the energy to open them." Harry motioned to his presents.

"You can open them tomorrow." James said, "but, there is something me and your mum wanted to give you."

Harry looked over at James with a frown.

"Really?" he asked, "what is it?"

James got up.

"Wait here." he instructed and he left the room.

He came back after a few minutes, this time, Lily was with him and both of them were carrying a cardboard box each. Harry sat up at the sight, brow furrowed in confusion. James and Lily at down next to him, cradling the boxes in their laps.

"Harry," Lily started quietly, "over the last nine years, there was never a day, your dad or I didn't think about you,"

Harry felt himself tense suddenly. He eyed his mum warily, wondering why she was bringing up his past, on today of all days.

"For the last nine years," Lily continued, "on the thirty-first of July, me and your dad celebrated your birthday," she paused, shifting the box in her lap, "not just your birthday, every Christmas, we thought about you and...and we..." her voice broke and she paused, gathering herself, "we got these," she held the box, "never knowing that we would get the chance to actually give you them."

Harry frowned, not following her.

"Mum?"

Lily held out the box, her eyes tearing up.

"Here," she whispered, "Happy Birthday darling, for today and all the birthdays you missed with us."

Harry took the box and silently opened the lid. He stared at the presents, all neatly labelled in his mum's handwriting. Some marked for his third birthday, some for his sixth, others for his tenth. Harry didn't know what to say, how to even comprehend what he was seeing. All those years, while believing him to be dead, his parents still bought presents for him. They still thought about him, celebrated his birthday by buying presents for him. What could he possibly say in response? He looked over at his dad, who held out the second box.

"Merry Christmas too." James joked, but tears were already forming in his eyes.

Harry put down the first box and reached over for the second. Opening it, he found more wrapped up presents, this time with Christmas greetings on them.

Harry shook his head at the sight.

"I...I don't even know what to say..."

"Don't say anything," Lily replied. She smiled before gathering Harry into her arms, "just...thank you, Harry, for coming back to us." she whispered before kissing his hair, hugging him close.

Lily pulled away, sniffing her tears back and rubbing at her cheeks.

"Oh dear," she chuckled, "I promised myself I wasn't going to cry today," she ran a hand lovingly over Harry's head, "wait, I've still to give you your present for today." she realised.

"Mum," Harry stopped her, "I've got enough presents," he smiled, "I don't need anymore."

"Yes, you do," Lily smiled, "you don't turn eleven, every day."

She got up and hurried to the door, going upstairs to get Harry's present.

"While your mum's away, I can give you my present." James said. He reached over behind his sofa chair and pulled out a small, square box. He handed it to Harry.

"I know you said you're tired," James started, "but could you open this one, please?"

Harry laughed and tugged the wrapping paper off. Inside was a simple black box.

"Open it." James prompted.

Harry gently lifted the lid up to reveal a small golden snitch, sitting on a wad of cream silk. Harry stared at it, somehow not surprised his dad had given him a snitch.

"Wow," he said, not at all enthusiastically, "a snitch. Thanks dad."

"It's not just any snitch," James explained with a proud smile, "this is my most prized possession." he reached into the box and lifted the snitch out. "This was my very first snitch, the only one I ever caught." he said, as he held it up, "I played as a Chaser in Hogwarts," he explained, "but in our final match against Ravenclaw, in my fifth year, I had to fill in for our Seeker. I was nervous, I had never played as Seeker, but desperate times called for desperate measures." he smiled at the memory, "I caught the snitch in record time. We won the Cup that year and this," he held the snitch up, "this became a forever reminder of my victory, my pride." James looked over at Harry, before gently depositing the snitch into Harry's hand. "I want you to have it."

"Dad, I can't take this," Harry said, "it means so much to you."

"That's the only kind of gift worth giving," James smiled, "I want you to have it. A little reminder that my victory, my pride isn't this," he pointed at the snitch, "but it's my son. You, Harry, are my pride, my victory."

Harry dropped his gaze to the small golden ball in his hands. With great care, Harry placed the snitch back into it's black box and closed the lid.

"Thank you, dad." Harry said.

James smiled before his eyes widened, as if he just remembered something.

"Wait, I have something else for you."

He got up, hurrying to the other side of the room. He slid open the door to the sideboard and pulled out a simple wooden box, one with no wrapper covering it. He walked back to Harry and sat down, before handing him the box.

"Here," he said, "you'll like this one." he grinned.

Harry took the box and clicked it open. His eyes widened with surprise at the object inside.

"My wand." he breathed. He pulled out his eleven inches, holly and phoenix feather wand, staring at it with wonder.

"Since you're now eleven years old and you'll be going off to Hogwarts soon," James shrugged, "I figured you should have your wand back." he held up a finger, "but, I want your word that you won't take your wand out of the house."

Harry grinned, eyes dancing with joy.

"You have my word," he said, "thank you, dad. Really, thank you."

James smiled back.

"My pleasure, Harry."

Lily walked back in, holding a colourfully wrapped up parcel. Just by looking at it, Harry knew it was a book. He smiled as he pocketed his wand, feeling the comfortable, familiar weight of it resting against his chest.

"Here, open this, Harry." Lily said, sitting down next to him.

Harry took the present from her.

"This is the last one," he told her, "I'll open the rest tomorrow, maybe with Damy's help."

"That won't be a problem," James grinned, "if there's anything Damien loves more than anything, is opening presents."

"Especially other people's presents." Lily added, with a smile.

Harry chuckled before taking a hold of the red ribbon on his present and tugging it open.

xxx

Standing at the high arched windows, staring out at the dark night sky, Lord Voldemort stood in complete silence. His red eyes scanned the skies, but not a single star could be detected. There was an old myth he had once heard as a young boy; that a starless night meant great evil was going to be unleashed on the world. He smiled at the memory. Foolish muggles with their idiotic myths. Evil was always present in the world, right under their noses, they were just too blind to see it.

Smirking, he raised his drink and took a sip. The amber liquid burned his throat as it passed, but he relished the feeling. He stood and waited, as the last minutes to the day ticked by, waiting until the last thirty seconds to midnight before letting out a deep sigh.

"Happy Birthday, Harry." he muttered, just before the clock struck twelve and the first of August made it's arrival.

He had forced himself not to think about Harry all day. He had ignored the date, lying to himself that he didn't remember it was Harry's birthday. But he had given in, in the last thirty seconds of the day, he had to finally acknowledge it.

He took a sip of his drink, thinking about Harry, wondering how his son had spent the day. He knew the Potters would have celebrated today. They would have fallen over themselves, trying to impress Harry with their festivities. Voldemort smiled and took another sip. Harry must have enjoyed himself today, no doubt about it.

"Hope you had fun, Harry, living another day in your dream," he murmured. He took another sip, his red eyes glinting dangerously, "but it's time to wake up."

xxx


	13. Aboard the Hogwarts Express

**Disclaimer** I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

**Chapter Thirteen**

The Potter family were sitting at the table, halfway through breakfast when the owl flew in through the open window. The brown-feathered bird landed on the table, nearly upsetting the bowl of cornflakes Lily had prepared for herself. Damien gaped at the sight of the bird, his spoon still in hand but completely forgotten about.

Lily let out a squeak of excitement and clapped her hands together.

"It's here!" she told James and Harry, "it's finally here!"

"Yes, darling, we can see it too," James teased, "it's not an invisible owl." he turned to wink at Harry, only to see the boy's whole attention was on the envelope tied to the owl's leg.

James untied the letter, allowing the owl to turn and flap back out of the kitchen. Damien turned in his seat, watching it go.

"Whoa," he breathed before turning to his parents, "can I have an owl?" he asked, "please, mum, can I have an owl, please, please, please?"

"Maybe when you go to Hogwarts." Lily replied, distracted by the envelope in James' hands.

James turned it over, reading the green ink.

"Mr H. Potter." he smiled, "it's for you." he held the envelope out for Harry to take.

With slow movements, Harry reached out and took the envelope, his expression unreadable. He didn't look excited or nervous. He just stared, dispassionately at the envelope.

"Harry?" Lily called, "aren't you going to open it?"

Harry nodded and turned the envelope over. His fingers traced the insignia of Hogwarts seal, before he tugged the envelope open. He pulled the parchment out and silently read it.

"Oh, this is so sweet!" Lily gushed, watching Harry with his letter, "our first Hogwarts letter. Wait, let me go get my camera. This is a moment I have to capture."

Harry lowered the letter, looking rather lost than excited.

"Harry?" James asked, "what's wrong?"

Lily stopped, turning to look at her son.

"What's wrong, darling?" she asked.

Harry shrugged.

"Nothing," he said quietly, "it's just...I've been thinking..." he glanced up at his parents before turning to stare at his bowl, "is it...really necessary for me to go to Hogwarts?"

James and Lily stared in confusion.

"Would you like to go to another school?" James asked.

Harry shook his head.

"No, I...it's not Hogwarts. It's...school." he looked up at James, "I'm just...I'm not sure that I need to go to school. I know a lot of stuff-"

"I'm sure you do," Lily interrupted, "but there is so much you have yet to learn, Harry." she caressed his cheek softly, "don't you want to better your understanding?"

"I do," Harry nodded, "but I...I don't want to..." he paused, visibly uncomfortable, with hunched shoulders and troubled eyes.

"What?" James prompted, "what don't you want to do?"

Harry met his eyes.

"Leave," he said. "I don't want to leave."

James and Lily understood.

"Oh, honey," Lily reached out, taking Harry's face in her hands, "I don't want you to leave either. I can't tell you how hard it's going to be with you away."

"So don't send me," Harry said, "you can home-school me." After all, that was how he had learned so far.

"We could home-school you for some subjects," James said, "I could teach you Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration Your mum could give you lessons on Potions and Charms and even Magical History," his eyes softened, "but Harry, there is so much more you can learn at Hogwarts. There's Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination amongst others."

Harry's shoulders slumped and he nodded, clearly unhappy.

"Don't be upset," Lily said, "you're going to love Hogwarts. Ron and Neville will be starting this year too, so you'll have friends there."

Harry shifted in his seat, eyes lowered. He was going to have one more friend at Hogwarts than his parents knew. His heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing Draco at Hogwarts. He wasn't sure if he was excited or reluctant to meet him again.

"Harry?"

He looked up at his dad's call.

"Yeah, dad?"

"What thoughts were you lost in?"

Harry shook his head.

"Nothing," he muttered, "nothing at all."

xxx

"He's really nervous about leaving, isn't he?" Lily said, watching through the window as Harry and Damien played in the garden.

James sipped at his tea, hazel eyes staring at his eldest.

"It makes sense," he said, "Harry's only been back with us eight months. To leave his family and go to a strange place, so far away," he shrugged, "to be honest, I have half a mind to home-school him too."

"James," Lily chastised, "we can't do that. We're nowhere near qualified."

"We could get tutors?" James suggested.

"It's not just about the classes," Lily said, "school's more than just education. Harry needs to be with children his age," her face clouded, "he's been kept on his own for far too long."

James silently agreed. Voldemort had sentenced Harry to a childhood filled with terror and pain, kept him solitary and isolated from others. He looked through the window, at a smiling Harry as he played with Damien, chasing him around the garden before grabbing him and pinning him to the grass.

"You're right," James said, "Harry needs to go to Hogwarts. He needs some sort of normality after everything he's been through."

They sat in relative silence, sipping at their drinks, their gazes darting every so often to their sons.

"It's going to be tough though," Lily said, "sending him away, not seeing him again until...Christmas." Lily shuddered, "God, James, we're not going to see Harry until Christmas! That's...that's too long."

"It's the way it is," James said unhappily, "our parents did the same with us."

Lily looked thoughtful, sitting with her mug in hand, fingers tapping lightly against it as she chewed her bottom lip.

"I wonder," she mused, "it's worth a try."

"What?" James asked, "what are you thinking?"

Lily got up from her seat.

"I need to make a call," she said in explanation.

"A call?" James called after her, "who you calling? Lily, what are you up to?"

"I'll explain later." Lily said as she hurried out of the kitchen.

James shook his head and went back to his drink. He watched as Harry chased Damien up and down the garden. The sound of Damien's high pitched giggles was enough to make James smile, but it was the sight of Harry's elation that made James beam with happiness. The way Harry's green eyes brightened and that beautiful smile on his face as he chased after Damien, it was a sight James could sit and stare at all day.

He took another gulp of his tea, watching Harry as he caught Damien and pinned him to the ground again. Laughing, both boys sat up, Harry on his knees while Damien leapt on his feet and ran, urging Harry to chase him yet again.

"Come on, Harry!" his yell sounded faint, coming to the kitchen through the window.

Harry stood up and had taken barely three steps when he suddenly stopped. The smile, joy on his face melted, replaced by pain. Both hands flew to his forehead and Harry doubled over, crying out.

James bolted out of his chair, racing to the back door and wrenched it open. He ran out into the garden and turned the corner, in time to see Harry fall to his knees, hands still gripping at his head. Damien was by his brother's side, fearfully calling out his name.

"Harry? Harry, what's wrong? Harry?"

"Harry!" James yelled.

His scream made Damien jump and move back a step as James raced to Harry's side, taking the boy into his arms.

"Dad!" Harry gasped, eyes clenched shut, fingers digging into his scar.

"Damy, run inside and get your mum, go, hurry!" James instructed and little Damien ran off into the house. James turned his attention on Harry who was writhing in his arms, crying out in agony.

"Harry? Oh, God, Harry? Harry?"

James kept calling but Harry either couldn't hear him, or didn't have the breath to answer. He arched in James' grasp, his cries guttural through clenched teeth. Suddenly, he went limp, sending the already distressed father into full blown panic.

"Harry! Harry!"

James stood up, holding Harry in his arms, pressed against his chest and ran to the gates, to get past the anti-apparation wards. He heard Lily's call behind him and stopped, just long enough to tell her to get to St Mungos. He stepped past the gate and disapparated with a loud pop.

xxx

The hospital discharged Harry two hours after admitting him, telling both James and Lily there was nothing wrong with him.

"All the tests have come back negative. He's in absolute perfect health. Nothing to worry about."

That's what they had said repeatedly, _'nothing to worry about.'_ It was precisely what bothered James. There was something to worry about, something to very serious to worry about.

James stood at the door, watching as Lily tucked Harry into bed, fussing over him. She brushed back Harry's bangs and leaned down to kiss him. That's when James caught sight of the lightening bolt shaped scar. The scar that was making his son's life hell. James resolved, then and there, he was going to get rid of that scar. No one was going to stop him. Not even Harry himself.

xxx

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, seated in the passenger seat of his dad's car.

"You'll see." James replied.

"Are we driving to London?" Harry asked

"No." James replied, keeping his gaze fixed to the road ahead.

"So, we're not going to Diagon Alley for Hogwarts stuff?" Harry deduced.

"No, your mum's taking you tomorrow." James replied.

Harry nodded, looking out of the window.

"Is it a surprise?" Harry asked.

James' fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

"Sort off." he replied.

Harry looked over at him with a grin.

"Quidditch?" he asked, a hopeful glint in his eye.

James smiled tightly.

"No, Harry, not Quidditch." he replied apologetically.

"Oh," Harry frowned, "then, what is it?"

James pulled into the car park.

"You're about to find out." he muttered.

James led Harry from the car to the the modern-looking glass building. Harry observed it with a furrowed brow, green eyes narrowed.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"It's a clinic." James replied at last.

Harry turned to him with disbelief.

"Dad?"

"I know you think there's nothing that can be done about your scar," James started, "but you don't know that for certain." he looked up at the building, "this place has the best Healers in the world, Harry. Please, at least give them a chance."

Harry stared at James, cold fury settling in his emerald green eyes, darkening them. James in turn gave him a pleading look.

"Just one consultation," he said, "that's all I'm asking for."

Harry didn't say anything. He did follow James into the building. He waited in the seating area until his name was called by the grey-haired Healer and he went into the room while James waited behind, but he didn't speak. Not to James and not to the kind faced Healer. Not a single word.

xxx

The door to Godric's Hollow opened and Harry stormed in, practically running to the stairs, climbing two steps at a time so he was in his room before James entered. The loud bang of Harry's door slamming shut warned James not to go after him.

Lily walked into the hallway, a surprised look on her face.

"What happened?" she asked.

James took in a sigh and closed the front door.

"Harry's mad at me because I took him to a clinic."

"Clinic?" Lily blinked, "what kind of a clinic?"

"The kind I hoped might be able to help get rid of his scar."

Lily's eyes widened and mouth dropped open. She hurried forward.

"What did they say? Is there anything they can do?"

"Don't know." James said heavily, "Harry didn't co-operate so they couldn't make an analysis."

Lily looked up at the stairs before turning back to James.

"What do you mean?"

"He just sat there, refusing to answer any questions," he replied, "then, when they tried to study the scar, he pushed them away, injuring two Healers-"

"Oh, come on, he's a ten year old boy!" Lily said, in a classic defensive-mother-mode "how hard could he push?"

James gave her a look.

"He didn't push them with his hands."

"Oh," Lily's eyes narrowed, "I'm going to speak to Harry. Just because he got his wand back, doesn't mean he can start using it like this."

"Lily," James said quietly, "he didn't have his wand with him."

Lily gasped.

"He...he can do wandless magic?" she asked in surprise.

James ran a hand through his air.

"I knew he was good at duelling. I saw for myself how quick his reflexes were, and we all saw at Frank's birthday how he transfigured that glass, but wandless magic? At the age of ten?" he shook his head, "I don't know whether to be proud or concerned."

Lily glanced to the stairs again.

"What did the Healers say? Will they see him again?"

"They told me I had to sort things out with him. I have to bring him back once Harry's ready to co-operate."

"You should have talked to Harry before taking him," Lily said, "you didn't even tell me where you were going."

"I knew he wouldn't want to go and he would put up an argument," James said, "but I didn't think he would outright attack the Healers."

Lily rubbed a hand down James' arm.

"It'll be alright," she comforted, "once Harry's calm, I'll talk to him."

"You might have better luck," James said, "I tried, the whole ride back, but Harry won't as much as look at me." he said, heart-broken at Harry's behaviour.

Lily reached up to cup his face.

"It'll be okay," she assured, "just let Harry calm down and everything will go back to normal." she smiled, "besides, once Harry hears the good news, he'll be so happy, he'll forget he was mad at you."

"Good news?" James looked up at her, "what news is this?"

Lily's smile deepened.

"I just got Dumbledore's reply. He's agreed to let me and Damy come and stay at Hogwarts."

"What?" James was gob-smacked, "how? Parents aren't allowed to stay at Hogwarts."

"Parents aren't," Lily agreed, "but supplementary Potion mistresses can."

James' eyes widened and he stared at his wife with shock.

"When did you do this?"

"A few days ago. It was the same day Harry had to be rushed to Hospital," Lily reminded, "I fire-called Dumbledore and offered my services. He had spoken to me a while back, about joining the staff of Hogwarts as a Potions mistress but at the time, Damien was too young for me to consider it," she shrugged lightly, "but now, Damien's a little older and Harry will be more comfortable, knowing that I'm close by," she smiled, "it's a good idea, don't you think?"

"It is," James agreed, "only one problem. I'll be coming home to an empty house every night."

Lily's grimaced.

"I know and I'm sorry," she said, "but Harry was so upset and I...I couldn't bear the thought of being away from him for so long, I just went ahead and spoke to Dumbledore." she looked abashed, "I should have spoken to you first about it-"

"No, no," James smiled, taking a hold of her by the shoulders, "you did the right thing," he said, "it's great that you'll be near Harry. He'll be able to enjoy Hogwarts with the peace of mind that his family is nearby."

"Family minus his father," Lily corrected.

"Don't worry," James grinned, "I'll be at Hogwarts every weekend." his smile fell a little and his brow furrowed, "what about Damien? What will he be doing when you're teaching?"

"I won't be teaching, not this year anyway," Lily said, "I'm going to be brewing up batches of potions, preparing ingredients, help plan out lessons, that sort of thing. Damien can be in the lab with me or playing in my staff quarters when I'm working there."

James nodded.

"That's good." he said, "I'm glad this worked out. At least Harry will have one parent with him at Hogwarts."

"He'll have both on the weekends." Lily teased.

"Don't know if he'll be happy about that just yet. He's really pissed at me."

Lily reached up and kissed James.

"Don't worry," she said, "we leave in a week. He's not going to stay mad at you."

xxx

It turned out Lily was wrong. Harry stayed mad at James. So mad, that he refused to talk to him. No matter how hard James tried, at the table, out in the garden, in any room of Godric's Hollow, Harry didn't respond to him, not in the slightest. When Sirius came over to visit, he went into Harry's room to talk to him in private.

"Your dad only did what he thought was best," Sirius explained, "surely you understand that?"

Harry stared out of the window, hands clasped around his knees.

"He did what he wanted," Harry corrected, "for his own reasons, not for me."

"Harry," Sirius scolded lightly, "you know that's not true."

Harry looked over at him.

"He took me to a clinic after I specifically told him I didn't want any Healers poking at me," Harry said, "he did what he wanted to do, because my scar hurting freaks him out-"

"Of course it freaks him out, it freaks _everyone_ out," Sirius said, "it's a problem, Harry, and the solution isn't to get numbed up by countless pain relief potions," his eyes softened with concern, "it needs a permanent cure."

Harry snorted and looked away, out of the window again.

"Good luck, there isn't a cure." he muttered.

"How can you know that?" Sirius pushed, "isn't it worth a try? If you go to this clinic and co-operate with the Healers and they end up finding a solution, isn't that worth the trouble?"

Harry turned to look at him with fierce eyes.

"Are you lot really this naïve? Or are you just pretending to be around me?"

Sirius was taken aback.

"What?" he asked.

"My scar links me to Lord Voldemort." Harry said.

Sirius tensed. He already knew that, James had told him.

"I know." he nodded.

"Yeah, you do," Harry said, "and mum knows and dad knows and probably Remus too, but you know who doesn't know? The Ministry." Harry was so angry, he was trembling, "but if I let Healers start poking around and doing tests, very soon they'll discover what my scar _actually_ is; a link to Voldemort!" he hissed the name out, "how long do you think the Healers would keep back that information? How long before the Ministry comes knocking, wanting to take advantage of me? Fudge is already in wait, looking for the opportunity to have me interrogated again."

Sirius grimaced at the reminder of how Sturgis had to question Harry about the attack on Diagon Alley.

"No one's going to interrogate you again," he assured, "we'll make sure of it."

"Like you did last time?" Harry asked, icily, "as far as I can remember, you and dad were in the next room. What did you do to stop it?"

"Harry?" Sirius was stunned. He didn't think Harry would blame them. Harry had gone with Sturgis willingly. James had tried to interfere and it was Harry who told him he was okay with it.

At Sirius shock, Harry paused, before letting out a sigh and collapsing against the wall. He shook his head, eyes closed to calm down.

"I didn't really mean that," he said, "I don't blame you," Harry looked over at Sirius, "I know that you and dad will always try to help me," he paused, "but I also know that you can't, not when it comes to the Ministry."

"The Ministry is not a threat, Harry," Sirius said, "and I promise you, the day they become one, I'll be the first one to fight them." he ruffled Harry's hair with great affection, "no one and I mean, _no one_, threatens my Godson and gets away with it."

A weak smile crossed Harry's face.

"Now," Sirius leaned forward, "how about me and you go downstairs and you can make up with your dad?"

Harry straightened up and shook his head.

"No."

"Harry, please," Sirius said, "James is going nuts not talking to you. He's dying to be in your good books again."

"Tough," Harry said, "he should have thought about that before tricking me into going to that clinic."

"He's already apologised about that," Sirius said, "and he only had your best interest at heart. I get what you mean, about how investigating that scar could involve the Ministry and if you had explained that to James, he would never-"

"I shouldn't have to explain," Harry said, "dad should be able to connect the dots and figure out the consequences himself."

"Okay, you're right," Sirius placated, "but just this time, could you forgive your dad and make up with him?"

Harry shifted, visibly uncomfortable. He shook his head.

"No."

"You're going away to Hogwarts the day after tomorrow," Sirius reminded, "do you want to leave like this?"

Harry shrugged.

"Why not?" he asked, "I'm not talking to him again."

"Come on, Harry," Sirius said, "you're really not going to talk to your dad ever again?"

"I told him specifically, I didn't want to see any Healers," Harry replied, "if dad's not going to listen to me, then I don't see the point of talking to him."

xxx

The first of September arrived and by ten thirty that morning, all four Potters were at Kings Cross Station, having past the barrier at Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

Harry stared at the scarlet train with awe. He had read about Hogwarts in books his father had given him. On several occasions, he had coaxed stories about the school out of his father. The first story Voldemort had ever told him, was of his train ride to the school, aboard the Hogwarts Express. Harry had never thought he too would get the chance to attend Hogwarts and to ride the train that had sounded too good to be true.

The platform was very busy, with people bustling in and out of the train, lugging big bulky trunks after them. The Potter family itself had three trunks; one for Harry, Lily and Damien. Lily had made it easier and hovered the three cases to follow after them.

The Potters stopped near the doors and turned to face the only one not boarding the train.

"Look after yourself, James," Lily said, embracing him tightly, "don't skip on breakfast and make sure you get enough sleep. Just because I'm not home doesn't mean you can work till late at the office."

James chuckled.

"Stop worrying, Lily," he said, "I'll be fine. You just look after yourself and my boys."

They kissed, making Damien wrinkle his nose and narrow his eyes.

"Ew!" he groaned.

James and Lily broke away, smiling at their youngest. James crouched down and pulled Damien into a hug, kissing his head.

"You gonna be a big boy and look after your mum for me, aren't you?"

Damien straightened up, his little chest pushed out with pride.

"Yeah, I'll take care of her." he said.

James laughed and ruffled his hair lightly. He glanced up to see Harry watching them. As soon as their eyes met, Harry purposefully looked away, shifting from one foot to the other. James smiled. He pulled Damien into another hug.

"Look after your brother for me too." he whispered in Damien's ear.

Damien nodded.

"Okay."

James straightened up and looked over at Harry. It had been so many days since he had heard Harry's voice. He had tried everything he could think of, but Harry had stubbornly held his silence. But now, he was going away to Hogwarts. It was going to be a whole week before James would get to see him again, but still, Harry refused to speak to him.

"We have to go." Lily said as the train let out it's first whistle.

"Okay." James nodded.

Lily held Damien's hand and walked towards the train, the floating trunks behind her. She stopped next to Harry and gave him a meaningful look, tilting her head in James' direction. Harry looked away and Lily sighed. She turned to give James an apologetic look but James simply smiled and shook his head.

"Bye, James." Lily said.

"Bye, dad!" Damien waved.

"Bye," James replied to both. He looked at Harry and smiled, masking his pain the best he could, "bye, Harry."

Harry nodded at him, but didn't speak. He didn't even look at him. He turned and followed behind his mum and brother. Lily guided Damien onto the train first and then stepped on herself, their luggage gliding in after her. Harry put one foot onto the train and then stopped. His eyes closed and hands clenched before he let out a frustrated breath. He turned and ran to James, throwing his arms around his dad's middle.

James caressed Harry's hair, rubbing a hand down his back. He crouched down when Harry finally let go to be on the same eye level as him. Harry held his gaze and slowly shook his head.

"Don't ever do that to me again." he said, "I hate being mad at you."

James smiled, his eyes bright at hearing his son's voice again and having felt the warmth of his embrace.

"I'm your dad, Harry," he said, "I'll always do something to piss you off."

Harry couldn't help but smile at that. James pulled Harry into a proper hug, kissing his head.

"You'll come Friday?" Harry asked, his voice muffled against James' shoulder.

"Yeah, I'll be at Hogwarts Friday evening." James assured. He pulled away and cupped Harry's face. "Take care of yourself." his eyes shadowed with concern, "if anything in the slightest bothers you, you go straight to your mum." his gaze darted to Harry's forehead and Harry understood.

"I will," Harry assured, "you don't have to worry."

James smiled and hugged him again, holding him close.

"I'll see you soon, son." he whispered, sounding like he was comforting himself as much as Harry.

Harry pulled away and nodded.

"Yeah, I'll see you soon."

The second whistle sounded and Harry made his way to the train, where Lily and Damien were waiting, watching him. Lily smiled warmly at him and nodded, a wordless 'well-done'. Harry stepped onto the train and turned to wave at James one last time before following Lily and Damien down the narrow corridor.

xxx

The train hadn't even moved yet and already the compartments were filling up. Lily led Damien and Harry down the crowded corridor, looking for an empty room. She struggled against the crowd, one hand clutched around Damien's small hand and one on her wand, directing her luggage to follow.

"Keep close, Harry," she said, turning to look at him, "it's chaotic in here."

Harry jogged a few steps to get closer, but slowed down as they continued to make their way forward, his mind still on his dad. It felt so strange to leave him behind. As angry as Harry had been with his dad, he still didn't want to be away from him. He never wanted to be away from him, ever again.

It was partly being lost in his thoughts and partly the commotion and noise level on the train that was to blame. If Harry had been concentrating, he would have reacted in time. A hand closed around his arm and yanked him sideways, straight into the cubicle that was a restroom. It happened so suddenly and so fast, Harry didn't even have the breath to cry out. His hand darted to his pocket and his wand was in hand when his eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness and he recognised the man.

"Lucius?" Harry gasped. He struggled against the hand still closed around his arm. "Let me go! What do you think you're doing?"

"Shhh!" Lucius urged.

The door locked with a click and only then, did Lucius pull the cord that lit the small lamp in the restroom. Harry stared at the nervous looking wizard, whose grey eyes were clouded with fear.

"I'm sorry," Lucius said, letting go of him, "I had no other option. It's imperative that I speak with you." he spoke with urgency, his voice no louder than a whisper, even though it was clear no one could hear them in the commotion outside.

"Move out of the way." Harry said, reaching over to unlock the door and leave.

"Please," Lucius grabbed his hands, stopping him, "Prince, hear me out."

"Why?" Harry snarled, "you got more lies for me?"

Lucius' already troubled expression darkened and he averted his eyes.

"You must understand, we didn't have a choice-"

"There's always a choice," Harry interrupted, "you just made the wrong one."

Lucius looked up then, grey eyes met green.

"You're right," he whispered, "and maybe that's why I'm here. Because I want to make the right choice, to correct my wrongs."

Harry frowned.

"What are you talking about?"

"Prince," Lucius moved forward, grabbing both Harry's arms, "you have to do something, _anything_ to stop Master, to make him change his mind."

"What are you doing?" Harry exclaimed, trying to pull himself free, but Lucius' grip didn't falter.

"Please, Harry, do something, make contact with him, speak to him."

"What?" Harry asked with disbelief.

"When you get to Hogwarts, go to the Owlery," Lucius instructed, fear glazed in his eyes, "use one of the school owls, write a letter to Master. Tell him you don't like living with the Potters. Tell him you're considering returning to him."

"Are you insane?" Harry asked, pulling an arm free at last, "do you hear yourself?"

But Lucius didn't reply, instead continuing with his instructions.

"Tell Master that you need time. You need to think about what you want. Tell Master what he wants to hear, Harry. Tell him you are close to choosing him and that you just need time."

Harry pulled himself free at last and pushed Lucius away.

"You've lost your mind!" he said.

"No," Lucius said, "but you will lose yours, if you don't do as I say," he said, "Master's angry with you because you've not returned. He's planning on doing..." he faltered, "something, something I'm under oath of not disclosing," he moved forward again, his sneer, usual arrogance, pride drained from his face. All that was left was a pale, shivering, pleading man. "he's going to destroy you, Harry. He'll take everything away from you, _everything_, do you understand what I mean?"

"I understand you, perfectly," Harry replied, "but you can go back and tell him he can do whatever he likes. I'm not returning to him."

Lucius shook his head.

"I'm not asking you to return," Lucius hurried to explain, "just tell him that you might. Buy yourself time and then go into hiding. Take your family and hide-"

"No," Harry cut him off, "I'm done hiding. I'm not living in fear of him."

"Harry-"

The train whistled for the third and final time. Lucius looked to the door before back at Harry.

"Do as I say, Harry," he said, "if you want to keep what you have, lie to him, tell him what he wants to hear," he unlocked the door, "otherwise, say goodbye to everything you hold dear," his grey eyes glistened, "because Master will tear your life apart until nothing is left."

Harry didn't say anything and watched as Lucius slid the door open and stepped out, hurrying to get off the train before it started moving. The train pulled gently and Harry could feel the slow start out of the station. Taking a deep breath, Harry walked out of the restroom, preparing to find his mum and Damien. His mum was probably in a panic, looking for him.

Harry had just turned into the corridor when he came to a sudden stop, eyes widening with surprise.

This time, it was the youngest Malfoy that met his eyes.

xxx


	14. Trick or Treat

**Disclaimer** I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

**Chapter Fourteen**

Harry stared in surprise, even though he had spent all morning preparing himself to see Draco, he didn't expect to see him so suddenly. Grey eyes stared back, mirroring his shock. Before Harry could open his mouth to speak, he heard his mum's panicked voice, yelling his name.

"Harry! Harry!"

He turned to see his mum, Damien in tow, frantically searching for him. Harry looked back at Draco, whose expression morphed from shock to disgust at the sight of Lily.

"Harry," Lily's choked surprise made Harry tear his gaze away from his friend and look around at her. "Oh, thank God!" she ran to him hugging him tightly, "where were you? I turned around for a minute and you were gone!"

Harry swallowed with difficulty. He could feel Draco's gaze, burning into his back.

"I had to...to use the..." he gestured to the side, to the restroom.

Lily glanced at it and sagged in relief.

"You should have told me."

"Sorry." Harry practically whispered the word.

"It's okay," Lily ran her hand through Harry's hair, smiling now, "I just panicked when I didn't see you." she held onto his hand, "come on, let's go."

Harry allowed himself to be pulled down the corridor. He didn't look back to Draco. He didn't have it in him to meet Draco's gaze.

xxx

When Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station, it was already dark. The sun had set hours ago. Harry stepped off the train into a light drizzly rain. He stayed by his mum's side throughout the train ride, sitting in a compartment with only her and Damien, but now he had to merge with the crowd of children. He heard a voice calling,

"Firs' years! This way!"

Harry saw a huge man, tall and bulky, waving a giant hand in the air. His bushy hair was getting into his beady eyes because of the rain. He raked a hand, as big as dustbin lids, across his forehead.

"This way, come along now!"

"Come on, Harry," Lily guided him and Damien towards him. Harry approached warily, unable to take his eyes off the giant.

The man stopped calling at the sight of them. His eyes crinkled as he smiled.

"Lily," he nodded, "Dumbledore said you'd be comin'."

"Hagrid," Lily beamed, "how are you?"

"Aye, well enough," the man, Hagrid, grinned. His gaze swept down and spotted Damien and Harry. It stayed on Harry for long moments, "this Harry?" he asked at last.

Lily beamed, a hand coming to rest on Harry's shoulder.

"Yes," she smiled, "Harry, this is Hagrid."

"Keeper o' keys at Hogwarts," Hagrid said, with a puffed out chest, "please' ta meet yeh, Harry."

Harry nodded at him, but didn't speak.

Hagrid guided Lily, Harry and Damien along with the first years to a series of boats, which they had to board in order to pass the lake. Harry stared in awe at the impressive castle, standing tall and proud, glowing from within by the light of a thousand candles.

Harry looked around at the first years as they climbed out of the boats, but he couldn't spot Draco in the dark.

"Harry!"

Ron waved at him before pushing his way through the crowd to come to Harry's side, a grinning Neville behind him. The two boys joined Harry, Lily and Damien and as a group, they made their way to the castle.

"It looks bloody amazing, doesn't it!" Ron gushed as they walked into the main hall.

Harry nodded as he stared in awe at the moving and talking portraits and the staircase that kept moving. Riddle manor had portraits too, but only of serpents.

Harry followed the crowd, all thoughts of Draco and even Lucius' warning gone from his mind as he took in Hogwarts. They met a tall, rather strict looking witch, who was waiting for them at the end of the hall.

"Good Evening," she greeted, "welcome to Hogwarts. My name is Professor McGonagall. In a few minutes, I will lead you into the Great Hall where you will be sorted into one of Hogwarts four houses, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin."

Harry felt his hair stand on end at the last name. The mere mention of Slytherin brought hundreds of memories of his father, crashing back to him. He always took great pride in reminding Harry, at every opportunity, that they were the last descendants of the great and powerful Salazar Slytherin.

So consumed in his thoughts was Harry, he didn't hear anything else the Professor said. He only snapped out of his thoughts when he felt Lily place a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm going to go in with Damien," she said, "you'll be okay out here?"

Harry nodded and Lily smiled proudly at him. Giving his shoulder a tight squeeze, Lily left, pulling Damien behind her.

Harry followed the crowd down the hall and past the doors, entering the Great Hall; a massive room lit with thousands of floating candles, four tables stretched to the length of the room and a raised stage where a fifth table lined the front. A flash overhead had Harry glance upwards at the night's sky, complete with stormy clouds and the drizzly rain.

"The roof's bewitched to look like the sky," a voice said from behind Harry. He turned to see a bushy haired girl, talking to another boy, "I read it, in Hogwarts; a History."

Harry glanced around at the hall. The four tables had students already seated, chatting animatedly with one another. Harry saw the witches and wizards seated at the fifth table and he realised it was the staff of Hogwarts. He spotted his mum, Damien seated next to her, looking incredibly small against the table.

Situated before them was a three legged stool, upon which rested a worn, battered looking hat.

"The sorting hat," Ron whispered with awe, "Fred and George said the hat sends shocks into your brain."

Harry turned to him with a frown.

"What?"

"Yeah," Ron nodded, looking halfway scared and halfway fascinated, "that's how it knows where to sort you."

Harry shook his head.

"They're having you on," he said, "there's no way the hat shocks you."

"You reckon?" Ron asked, sounding hopeful.

"Definitely," Neville added, "you think any parents would stand for it?"

Ron looked thoughtful, before turning to look at his brothers, seated at the Gryffindor table. Fred grinned and winked at him while George pointed to the hat and then closed his eyes, stuck out his tongue and shook as if he was convulsing. Ron narrowed his eyes at them.

"Bloody gits." he muttered.

Professor McGonagall stood next to the stool and held out a parchment.

"When I read out your name, come and take a seat on the stool. The sorting hat will place you in the house you are most suited for."

She began reading out names and one-by-one, the students walked over and took a seat. The hat shouted out name after name, sorting some into Hufflepuff, some into Ravenclaw and only a few into Gryffindor and Slytherin.

"Malfoy, Draco." Professor McGonagall called.

Harry looked over to see Draco walk out of the crowd and sit on the stool. The hat barely touched his head when it screamed, 'Slytherin'.

With a satisfied smirk, Draco got off the stool and walked over to the Slytherin table. Harry watched him as he sat with the Slytherins, talking to them. Draco's gaze found him and both boys just stared at each other. Draco's expression was unreadable for the rest, but Harry could see past the stoic mask. He could read the anger in the grey eyes and the clench on his jaw. Draco was angry with him. Very, very angry.

"Potter, Harry."

Harry snapped out of his daze and looked to the front. The witch was waiting for him, hat in hand Harry walked over and sat down on the three legged stool, horribly aware of everyone's eyes on him, especially the Headmaster's. Professor McGonagall plopped the hat onto Harry's head and a strange voice filled Harry's ears.

"_What do we have here?"_

Harry swallowed, his mouth dry.

"_Hmm, interesting, very interesting,"_ the hat went on, _"plenty of courage, not a bad mind either, but where to put you?"_

Harry's gaze darted to the Slytherin table, meeting Draco's steely grey eyes. Harry held the gaze but muttered under his breath,

"Anywhere," he urged, "but Slytherin."

"_Not Slytherin, eh?"_ the hat chuckled,_ "you know what mark you carry? You belong in Slytherin, being it's youngest descendant."_

"I know," Harry murmured, noting the whispering of the rest of the hall as they watched him argue with the hat, "but I have another bloodline too."

"_True,"_ the hat replied, _"but the question is, which ancestral line do you identify with? Which qualities outweigh the other?"_

Harry remained silent, his heart beating frantically.

"_Well, I guess I better put you in...GRYFFINDOR!"_ the hat announced at last and Harry let out a breath of relief.

The hall erupted with cheers, with Lily clapping louder than the rest, beaming with pride. Harry got off the stool and walked over to the Gryffindor table, to sit next to a grinning Neville. He didn't look to the Slytherin table. He didn't want to see Draco's expression.

xxx

The next morning found Harry rushing around to get ready. He shared a dorm with Neville, Ron and two other boys, Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas. That meant getting a shower in the morning was a feat in itself. Harry was doing his tie as he ran behind Ron and Neville to get to the Great Hall and get breakfast before, as Ron put it,_ 'all the fat sausages get taken'._

Neville and Ron ran ahead as Harry paused to tug his tie into place.

"Come on, Harry!" Neville shouted.

"Coming, coming," Harry muttered and looked up, ready to race to the doors when he spotted Draco, just turning around the corridor with a group of Slytherins.

Harry paused and then darted forwards, running to Draco before he disappeared into the hall. Draco looked around at him and his smile slid away, eyes sharpening at once. Harry came to a stop before him, staring at him, ignoring the looks from the rest of the Slytherins.

"Draco," he said, "can we talk?"

Draco regarded him coldly, before turning to his group.

"Keep me a seat, I won't be long."

He turned and walked with Harry to the nearest deserted classroom. Harry closed the door behind him and turned to Draco, finally having the privacy to talk.

"What do you want?" Draco asked, eyes narrowed and arms crossed.

"I just...I wanted to talk." Harry said.

"Really? About what?" Draco asked, in a clipped tone, "about how you ran away? Or maybe you want to explain your change of loyalty?"

"I didn't just run away," Harry said, coming closer, "I left for a reason."

"And what is that?" Draco asked, "what possible reason could you have for leaving the Dark Lord and coming back to the filth that hurt you!"

"They didn't hurt me," Harry said, "that's why I left fa...him," Harry caught himself in time, ignoring the way his heart clenched at the mention of Voldemort. He looked up into Draco's angry eyes, "It was him, Draco. It was all him. He was the one who hurt me. He made me think it was my parents-"

"Oh please, Harry," Draco recoiled away in disgust, "come up with another story, one that I could believe."

"I'm not lying," Harry said, anger filling him, "you know I don't lie."

"I don't know you at all," Draco said and the first glimpse of hurt shone in his eyes, "the Harry I knew would rather die than turn his back on his father."

"Draco," Harry shook his head, "it's not like that. He lied to me. Everything he's ever said, was nothing but lies. He tricked me into hating my parents. He took me from my home. He was using me, Draco."

"Using you?" Draco asked with surprise, "for what?" he shook his head, "tell the truth, Harry. You got scared. You ran back to the very people you despised for security. You think they'll protect you."

"Is that what they told you?" Harry asked, his anger making his hands clench into fists, "is that the lies your father-"

"Don't you dare talk about my father!" Draco erupted, "you have no right! Not after what you did!"

"What_ I _did?" Harry asked, incensed, "what about what your father did? Don't you want to hear about that?" Harry spat, "your father was one of them, Draco. Your father, Bella," he chocked on the name, "and Lord Voldemort! All of them pretended to be my mum and dad and Sirius. They're the ones that-"

"Stop!" Draco held out a hand, "just stop!" he glared at Harry, "I don't want to hear it. You're a traitor, Harry. You left and now you're trying to justify it by making up lies." he held out a finger, "say what you want, but don't you _dare_ say a word against my father!" he warned, "he can do a lot of things, but he would never raise a hand nor a wand at a child."

Harry didn't say anything but stared at Draco, at the unwavering belief he had in his father's moral code. He knew it wouldn't break, not at his word.

Draco glowered at him and walked away, slamming the door open and thundering out. Harry was left standing on his own, having lost the first friend he had ever made.

xxx

The week rolled past and Harry gradually got into the rhythm of Hogwarts. He enjoyed his breakfast with Ron and Neville, amused with their usual antics. The classes were boring. Harry already knew most of what they were teaching. He had completed the same work two years ago. But he sat in silence, completed the essays and handed them in without a word of complaint.

He spent a few hours in his mum's staff quarters every evening, playing games with Damien and reassuring his mum that everything was fine. All in all, he was enjoying his time, surprising even himself. After his disastrous conversation with Draco on his first day, Harry made a conscious effort not to cross Draco's path. He didn't have it in him to fight with who was once his best friend. Harry preferred to just stay away.

It was a Friday and Harry found himself eagerly awaiting the evening. His dad was coming tonight, straight after work. As much as Harry had enjoyed his week at Hogwarts, he missed his dad tremendously.

"You're so lucky," Ron grouched, as they headed to the greenhouse for Herbology, "you get to have your parents _and_ stay at Hogwarts."

"I don't know if lucky is the right word," Neville smirked, "if my mum was at Hogwarts with me, she'd drive me mad."

Harry chuckled.

"Your mum's not so bad," Harry said, "she seems pretty cool."

Neville shrugged but Harry could see the pride glow in his smile, despite his nonchalant behaviour.

"I guess having mum here, reminding me to put on my hideous jumper and volunteer for extra essays wouldn't be much fun." Ron countered.

"Your mum's not like that," Neville argued, "she'd be insisting you eat double helpings of everything."

Ron laughed.

"I wouldn't mind that part."

Neville turned to Harry.

"Your mum's pretty cool too," he said, "she doesn't bug you."

"Not in public." Harry joked.

"Oh, look at baby Potter!" a shrill voice came from behind them. Turning around, they saw the blond-haired, pug-faced, Pansy Parkinson. She was in her usual group, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott and – Harry grimaced – Draco. "Can't come to school without his mommy!" Pansy dissolved into laughter.

"At least his mum isn't embarrassed to be around him, unlike yours Parkinson!" Ron shouted back.

"Come on, Harry," Neville pulled at his arm, "just ignore them."

They walked ahead but the Slytherin group followed behind, shouting insults at them.

"I heard Weasley's mum had to move into a barn to have room for _all_ her kids," Nott said.

"Urgh, that's what that smell is." Pansy said.

"Leave it, Ron," Neville urged, "just ignore them."

"Poor and smelly the Weasleys may be," Nott said, "but at least their mother is better than that Potter!"

Goyle grunted.

"Yeah, dirty mudblood."

Harry came to a standstill. Even Neville and Ron turned with disgust, glaring at the laughing Slytherins.

"Take that back!" Neville shouted.

"Mudblood Potter! Mudblood Potter!" Pansy sang.

Harry turned around, green eyes slitted and hands curled into fists. He walked up to the group of five Slytherins.

"Harry! Harry, wait!" Ron and Neville ran behind him.

Harry came to stand before the bulky form of Goyle, ignoring the rest.

"What did you say?" he asked.

Goyle sneered at him.

"Dirty mudblood Potter." he repeated, cracking his knuckles.

Harry smirked at him and nodded. He turned to walk away before snapping back, throwing his curled fist straight into Goyle's face. The boy staggered back, eyes wide in shock. Behind him, the group of Slytherins gasped, including Draco. Even he didn't know about Harry's muggle duelling abilities.

Neville and Ron gaped in shock, staring at Harry with wide eyes and open mouths. Goyle growled in humiliation and leapt at Harry, big beefy hands extended towards him. Harry twisted out of the way and another punch caught the boy's ribcage. With a breathless groan, Goyle was down. Crabbe came running at Harry, while Nott and Pansy pulled out their wands.

"No, you don't!" Neville snapped and his wand was out and pointed at them, Ron followed his example.

"Expelliarmus!" both Neville and Ron cried.

Neville managed to disarm Nott but Ron's curse failed to have any impact on Pansy.

Harry dodged Crabbe's wild grab and waved a hand, throwing Pansy and Nott to the ground. The fall knocked Pansy's wand from her grip. Harry turned and kicked Crabbe, winding the big boy and bringing him to his knees.

Goyle staggered up to his feet, breathing like a wounded rhinoceros. He made another attempt at punching Harry, but Harry ducked and struck Goyle, punching him repeatedly until the boy fell to the ground.

Harry straightened up and met Draco's eyes. Through it all, Draco had stood motionless, watching Harry. Draco hadn't said anything, he hadn't joined in the slurring of Harry's mother, but he hadn't stopped his friends either.

With a last look, filled with bitter disappointment and sorrow for how things had turned for them, Harry turned and walked away, leaving Draco to stare after him.

xxx

Lily paced the room, her brow knitted and green eyes narrowed.

"I don't understand," she muttered, "what were you _thinking?_"

Harry didn't reply. He simply sat in the chair, his stare fixed to the ground.

"Duelling, with your _fists!_" she continued, rubbing at her forehead, "I can't...how do you even know muggle duelling?"

Harry remained silent.

Lily drew in a long breath.

"Harry," she came to kneel before him, "talk to me, explain what happened."

Harry looked at her.

"He asked for it."

The lines on Lily's brow deepened.

"He _asked_ for it?" she repeated, "that doesn't tell me anything, Harry."

Harry kept quiet.

"Fine!" Lily snapped and got to her feet, "don't say anything. I'll ask Crabbe and Goyle myself."

"Be my guest." Harry muttered

"I would hold back the cheek," Lily warned, "you're in enough trouble as it is." she turned to rub at her eyes, "in the Headmaster's office in your first week of school," she shook her head, "Merlin help me."

Harry didn't say anything.

Lily sighed and walked back to him, holding onto his hand as she knelt before him again.

"Harry, honey," she implored, "please, talk to me. What's going on? Why did you hit those boys?"

"He was defending your honour," came Dumbledore's voice from beside the door. Lily and Harry both looked around at him, as the white-haired wizard walked in, smiling. "I spoke with Misters Longbottom and Weasley and they me told what happened. It seems Mister Goyle insulted you and Harry reacted."

Lily looked back at Harry with surprise this time. Her grip tightened on his hand.

"Oh, Harry," she said, "you don't have to defend me, honey. Let people say what they want, don't let it get to you."

"But it did," Harry said, "it really got to me."

"Why?" Lily asked.

Harry looked away. He didn't want to tell her the name Goyle called her was the same name he used to address his mum. It disgusted him to his very core, how he used to think of his mum as 'the mudblood'. It was his way of getting back at her but that was when he hated her. Now, he knew his mum was innocent of the crimes he held against her. Now, he couldn't tolerate anyone insulting her.

"Harry?" Lily caressed his hair, bringing him out of his thoughts, "what's wrong?"

Harry shook his head but didn't speak.

Lily stood up and turned to Dumbledore.

"I understand it will be Minerva that sets his detention?" she asked, her cheeks colouring with embarrassment.

"Detention?" Dumbledore looked confused, as if he didn't understand the word, "for defending his mother's honour?" he shook his head, chuckling, "I don't think that's appropriate."

"He has to be reprimanded." Lily said, hating herself for saying it, "he put two boys into the hospital wing."

Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled at Harry as he stared at him.

"Yes, he did," he agreed, "but taking the circumstances into account, I think it's safe to let Harry off with a warning." he moved to his desk and sat down, facing Harry, "I'm allowing you to walk away today Harry with just a warning. But should you harm another student again, there will be repercussions. Am I understood?"

Harry held his gaze and nodded.

"Yes," he replied. Lily nudged him and Harry bit out an unhappy, "sir."

Dumbledore smiled.

"Very well," he looked up at Lily, "I would like to speak to Harry for a moment, in private."

Lily looked from Dumbledore to Harry, uncertainty shone in her eyes.

"What about?" she asked.

"It's nothing to worry about," Dumbledore smiled reassuringly, "it won't take long."

He didn't answer her question, Lily knew that but she recognised the dismissal. Having enough respect for her former Professor and the Leader of the Order, Lily obliged and turned to the door.

"I'll see you at dinner, Harry."

Harry nodded in return. Lily left the office, closing the door behind her.

Dumbledore didn't speak and for long moments, he simply sat back and stared at Harry.

"I must say, Harry," he started, "the more I learn about you, the curiouser I become."

Harry wasn't in the mood to play games, so sat back in silence.

"James tells me you are quite gifted. You're defensive spells are impressive for someone your age. And only last week, you exhibited a knack for wandless magic too."

Harry shifted his his chair, not liking this conversation one bit.

"And now, this duelling without magic," Dumbledore shook his head, "it makes me wonder," his blue gaze gripped Harry, holding him in place, "what exactly was he training you for?"

Harry didn't have to ask. He knew the _'he'_ in question was Lord Voldemort. Harry also knew that although Dumbledore was asking the question, he already knew the answer. His regretful tone gave it away.

Harry held the Headmaster's gaze and pressed his lips together, forcing himself not to speak, not to give confirmation to what Dumbledore already knew.

The Headmaster smiled sadly and looked away. He gestured to the door.

"It's almost time for dinner," he said, "it'd be a shame to miss it."

Harry got up and turned to leave.

"Harry," Dumbledore called, "the past cannot be changed, so do not dwell on it, my boy."

Harry turned to look at him.

"It's the future one should concentrate on," Dumbledore continued, "make the choices _you_ want to make and live your life free from the past."

Harry didn't say anything but turned and hurried out of the office, before his weakening mask betrayed his truth.

xxx

Harry walked along the corridor, hands in his pockets and head lowered. Dumbledore's words kept ringing in his head, making his insides go cold. Dumbledore knew, at least, he was on the right track. He knew Harry was training to be Voldemort's assassin. He was suspicious that Harry had done something. He must, why else would he say all that?

The thought made Harry shudder. He didn't know what he would do if that truth ever came out. If his parents found out he had killed, taken a human life, what would they do? Harry squeezed his eyes shut, forcing back the memory of that night. The Death Eater's cries for mercy still rang in his ears, ripping Harry's heart to pieces.

"Aww, look at you,"

The voice made Harry stop and look up.

"You look so cute in your school robes."

Harry stared at him, at his dad, feeling his heart twist with pain. James was smiling at him, eyes raking him from top to bottom. He had just walked in through the main doors.

"You look so grown up in your uniform." James said, "my little man, indeed."

Harry stared at him, feeling the tightness in his throat and the burn in his eyes. James' smile dropped and his eyes widened, mouth dropping in surprise.

"Harry?" he stepped froward, "what's wrong?"

Harry didn't say a word. Instead, he stepped forward just as James lowered himself. Harry's arms went around James' neck and he clung onto him, fistfuls of his shirt in each hand. Harry shuddered in James' embrace, head nestled into his dad's shoulder as hot tears fell from his eyes.

"Harry?" James called, rubbing a hand down Harry's back and cupping the back of his head, "what's wrong? Why are you upset, son."

Harry shook his head but clung to him tighter, his sobs barely audible.

"Dad," he croaked, "take me away from here. I don't want to stay in Hogwarts."

James relaxed a little and gently pulled Harry out of his embrace.

"You're homesick?" he asked, "it's only been a week, Harry."

Harry shook his head, wiping at his wet cheeks.

"No, its not that," he sniffed, "I just...I don't want to be here. Take me away, please."

"Harry," James placated, "I know it's hard, but you'll get used to it, son," he pulled Harry to his chest, wrapping both arms around his boy, "give it time, Harry, trust me, you'll love Hogwarts. Just give it time."

Harry fell quiet. Hogwarts he may fall in love with, eventually, but that wasn't the problem. It was the perceptive Headmaster that was scaring Harry.

xxx

The days turned to weeks, which turned to months and before Harry knew it, he had been at Hogwarts for almost two months. It only hit him when he saw the preparations for Halloween. The Great Hall was being decorated with giant pumpkins and cobwebs. A mighty feast was rumoured for that day's dinner and Ron was the most excited Harry had ever seen him.

"There's going to be twenty different desserts!" he told Harry, "pumpkin pasties, cauldron cakes, treacle tarts, you name it!" he rubbed his hands in glee, "I can't wait. I'm not going to eat breakfast or lunch, so I can fill in for dinner."

"You can't make it without breakfast or lunch," Neville teased, "who you kiddin?"

"Yeah, you're right," Ron admitted, "I'll just have to wear the stretchy pants at dinner."

"Hope you guys enjoy it," Harry said, "I won't be here to see it."

"Why?" Neville asked, "where you going?"

"The Halloween celebration," Harry replied, "I told you. Dad wants me, mum and Damy to go to the Halloween celebration at the Ministry."

"You did?" Ron asked, "when?"

"Last week," Harry said, "remember, we were having dinner, I told you dad was going to ask Dumbledore for permission to take me out of school?"

Ron looked lost.

"We were having roast beef?" Harry prompted.

"Ah, yes, now I remember," Ron smiled dreamily, "that roast beef was something, so juicy and tender."

"You need help," Neville said, "serious help."

"He actually reminds me of Sirius," Harry laughed, "obsessed with food, you two are."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with living to eat." Ron defended.

"It's supposed to be the other way around." Neville informed.

The three boys playfully argued, all the way down to breakfast.

xxx

When Harry arrived at the Ministry that evening, he saw even the main atrium was dressed up for Halloween. Every inch of the magnificent hall was glittering and sparkling. There was a giant cauldron in the middle of the atrium, giving off a faint wispy silver smoke. James pushed Harry forward gently, while Lily guided Damien across the floor, towards the cauldron.

"It was good of Dumbledore to open his floo," James said, "otherwise we'd be stuck using the visitor entrance."

Harry looked over to see the red telephone box, making it's slow ascend upwards, having deposited a group of wizards and witches.

"There's nothing wrong with that entrance." Lily said.

"You don't want to see how big that line is outside." James returned.

They reached the cauldron and James dropped his invitation into the giant pot. Something sizzled and popped before the silvery smoke spelled out the words, _'Potter Family, Welcome!'_

"Come on," James took Harry's hand, "this way."

He led his family down the hall and into an elevator. Several other Aurors and their families squeezed in next to them. The lift jerked and jumped and whisked them away to the second floor. Harry walked into a large hall, possibly bigger than the main atrium. It was dark but there were several glowing shapes dangling from the ceiling. A glittery gold cauldron was in the middle of the floor, shooting up a mini display of fireworks. A side table had more desserts than Harry had ever seen. Piles and piles of biscuits, cakes and pies of all flavours sat in small mounds. Chocolate fountains in various colours, red, green, pink and of course the standard light brown, pulled Harry and Damien's attention. Both boys ran to the table as James and Lily shook hands with other guests.

"You got duped into this too?" Remus asked with a grin as he greeted his friends.

"The Minister wouldn't take no for an answer." James replied, "I would much rather spend Halloween at Hogwarts."

"Tell me about it," Remus glanced over to the Minister, in the most immaculate of robes, meeting and greeting, "he always makes such a deal about these events."

"Minister Fudge has nothing better to do," Lily grouched, "it's not like we have a war to worry about. Let's throw a party instead."

Remus chuckled.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, "you're usually standing up for the Minister."

Lily waved a hand at him, but glanced sideways at James, who smirked at her.

"She's annoyed because I brought Harry." he said.

"What?" Remus looked surprised "Harry? Where is he?" he glanced around the dark room.

"Over there," James pointed, "drinking the chocolate," he grinned, "Harry! Use a cup!"

Harry pulled his head out of the flow of chocolate, grinned a pink mouthful and then went back in. Damien painfully arched his neck, trying to copy his big brother.

"Good God!" Lily hurried over to pull her boys back.

"Why's Lily mad about Harry coming?" Remus asked.

"She wanted him to spend his first Halloween at Hogwarts," James shrugged, "but I wanted to spend the holiday with my family," he glanced at the Minister, "and if I'm stuck at this party, so are they."

Remus chuckled, shaking his head at him.

"Ah, James!" Minister Fudge spotted him and hurried over, beaming, "good to see you."

James shook his hand and smiled.

"Thank you, Minister."

"Have you come alone?" Fudge enquired, "the invitation was for the whole family." his small eyes darted from face to face, seeking out the rest of the Potters.

"Lily and my boys are here as well." James replied.

"Oh, good, good," Fudge grinned, "how is young Harry? I trust he's settled?"

James fought to keep his pleasant smile in place.

"Harry's fine, Minister," he replied, "he's learning to put the past behind him, where it belongs."

The Minister laughed, but his eyes grew cold. He quickly excused himself and bounced off in the direction of Frank and Alice Longbottom.

Lily brought Harry and Damien back, wiping the front of their robes with a napkin.

"You'd think you've never had chocolate." she reprimanded.

"Not from a fountain." Harry grinned.

"Or one that was green!" Damien added.

"Aww," James patted Damien's head, "Sirius loves mint chocolate too."

Harry felt his good mood fizzle away. Sirius wasn't here, because he was still suspended from work. All because he tried to teach Lucius a lesson. Harry closed his eyes, shaking his a head a little, forcing all thoughts about Lucius and his warning on the train, out of his mind. He didn't want to think about that.

The dim lanterns hanging from the ceiling went out, plunging the hall into complete darkness. The only light came from the glowing shapes or the fireworks.

"What's the Minister up to?" Lily asked.

Harry glanced up at her but he could only make out her faint profile, lit against the spluttering fireworks.

"No idea," James replied and Harry could hear the note of confusion in his voice.

The chattering of the hall picked up and there was a clear tone of surprise and anxiety. Whispers of 'Lumos' echoed throughout and several wands lit up but it was not enough to dispel the darkness.

"Remain calm," Minister Fudge's voice called out, "there's no need to panic."

More and more wands lit up. Lily, James and Remus also muttered 'Lumos' and a faint glow fell over Harry and Damien. It was just as well, as Damien was beginning to get teary. Harry looked at him questioningly and Damien shook his head.

"I don't like the dark." he whispered in explanation.

Harry smiled.

"Don't worry, I think the dark doesn't like you much either."

Damien looked confused at first, but then smiled, giggling behind his hand.

In the midst of all the mutterings of 'Lumos', someone cast a different spell. A shooting light sped outwards, somewhere near the cauldron of fireworks. At first, Harry thought it was a spark that went astray, but when the jolt of light hit the wall and exploded into a shimmering bubble, big enough to cover the entirety of the wall, Harry realised what it was. A crippling cold spread through him and he gaped in utter horror.

Every eye turned to the wall, to the square of light visible from all corners of the darkened room. The image was of a chamber, with torches hanging from the walls. In the middle of this chamber, stood the one wizard that terrified the world. Lord Voldemort stood perfectly still, hands clasped behind him, red eyes burning like glowing embers. At his feet, lay a crumpled, broken form of a man, clad in ripped dark robes, bleeding badly. At Voldemort's side, stood the wild-haired, faithful female Death Eater, Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Oh my God!" Lily gasped, staring at the memory.

Harry stared too, his mind numb with terror. Surely this couldn't be what he feared. Surely, this couldn't be happening.

But even as Harry and the entire hall full of Aurors watched, another two figures walked into the picture, one was the tall, blond-haired aristocrat, Lucius Malfoy. The other was a small boy with messy black hair and striking emerald green eyes.

Harry's breath got caught somewhere in his chest as he watched himself in the memory, coming to stand, staring in horror at the bleeding man at Voldemort's feet.

"Father?"

The word echoed in the hall and every person sucked in a breath. Harry couldn't take his eyes off the memory, playing out in front of everyone, but he felt his dad stiffen next to him.

"Come forward, Harry," Voldemort's silky cold voice had everyone shiver. "I want to introduce you to someone."

A flick of his hand and the man was violently turned over, hitting his back on the marble floor with a thwack. Everyone could see the horror on memory-Harry's face as he stared at the man.

"What is this, father?" Harry asked, "who is he?"

"This," Voldemort pointed with his wand and the man arched up his back, screaming in agony, "is a traitor." he pulled his wand away and the man slumped back, his breathing ragged and uneven. "He was trying to overthrow me," Voldemort smirked, "can you imagine? A worthless, piece of scum like this!" another curse and the man convulsed in agony, "thought he could take my place."

Everyone watched as the young boy in the memory dropped his head, squeezing his eyes shut, obviously trying to block out the cries. Lucius touched his shoulder.

"You have to watch it, Harry," he said, "when our Lord delivers justice, we should witness it."

"What are you going to do with him?" Harry asked Voldemort, and the tremble in his voice eluded no one.

Voldemort smiled.

Watching the memory, Harry felt like his blood had turned to ice. He watched, even though he knew what came next, but he couldn't move or speak. The horror of having his worst nightmare come alive before him had rooted him to the spot in sheer terror.

"I've sentenced him to death," Voldemort said, his voice echoed in the hall so every witch and wizard could hear him, "and I want you, my son, to be his executioner."

xxx


	15. Falling Down

**Disclaimer** I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

**Chapter Fifteen**

The entire room gasped, shocked at what they had just heard. The Dark Lord Voldemort was asking a child, a mere boy, no older than ten years old to execute someone. In the shimmering bright bubble that was spread out over the wall, the memory continued to play.

"You want me to..." Harry looked down at the semi-conscious man at Voldemort's feet, "kill him?"

"Yes," Voldemort hissed with delight, "I want him to meet his end at your hands."

Standing in the middle of the room, Harry watched the memory with a sense of disbelief. This couldn't be happening. Not here. Not now. Not with his parents watching.

In the memory, Lucius Malfoy reached into Harry's robes and pulled out his wand from the pocket. Lucius knelt before Harry and held the wand out.

Slowly, hesitantly, Harry reached for his wand.

Watching along with the rest of the room, Lily gasped loudly, wide green eyes filled with horror.

"No!" she whispered, "oh no, no!"

His mum's barely audible cry pierced into Harry, shaking him out of his stupor. Harry fumbled for his wand and pointed it at the bubble of memory.

"Reducto!" he cried and the bubble cracked and burst, plunging the room back into darkness, save for the few lit wands.

The room's attention turned to the trembling eleven year old. Harry could just about make out his dad's horror-stricken face in the limited light. Harry shook his head at him, forcing his voice out.

"Dad-"

A flicker of light and another bubble enlarged, on the opposite wall this time and the memory started exactly where it had been when Harry smashed it.

"Point it at him," Voldemort's quiet and gentle voice carried in the room, "aim for the spot between his eyes. Take aim, Harry and say the killing curse."

The eleven year old Harry was dumb-founded. What was going on? Who was here, playing the memory? He turned, searching through the crowd but it was far too dark to see all the faces.

"Take a breath in," Voldemort commanded in the memory to the clearly reluctant Harry, "steady your hand and take his life."

Every eye was turned to the wall, watching in horror as the little boy lifted his wand, took aim and uttered the two cursed words.

"Avada Kedavra."

A jet of green light flew out of Harry's wand and hit the man, right between his eyes.

Lily gasped loudly, hands flying to her mouth and she shook her head in disbelief. James was rooted to the spot, his back stiff, eyes unblinking as he watched the memory.

They could see the Death Eater shake from the collision of the spell but his chest continued to rise and fall, the sound of laboured breathing still in the air. It hadn't worked. The man was still alive. They watched as Lord Voldemort bent low to whisper in the child's ear.

"You have to mean it, Harry," he said, "it won't work unless you _want_ him to die."

Watching the memory, Harry shuddered. He raised his wand again. He would do anything to stop his parents from seeing the end of this memory.

"Reducto!" he bellowed again and the bubble burst.

This time though, Harry kept his wand clutched in his hand, ready. Sure enough another bubble of memory appeared in the other corner, showing the dark robed Voldemort standing next to a ten year old Harry.

"Raise your wand," Voldemort instructed, "kill him, Harry."

Again Harry shot out a blasting curse and the memory disappeared, only for another bubble to appear on the opposite wall.

The whole room watched the memory where a ten year old Harry aimed at the Death Eater for the second time. The impact of the first failed killing curse had jolted the Death Eaters into consciousness. He lay on the floor, moaning. His eyes fluttered open and he turned his head to look at Harry.

"Kill him." Voldemort instructed again.

The Death Eater let out a guttural cry and began shaking his head.

"Nuh!" he managed, "p'ease!" he pulled himself onto his front and tried to move but Bella pinned the man down, her boot crushing into his back.

Gasps of disgust, and some of sympathy, echoed in the room.

"Kill, Harry," frustration was seeping into Voldemort's voice for everyone to hear, "you know the curse. You know how to perform it. I want you to kill him."

A visibly terrified boy uttered the killing curse again.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The curse hit the man, but yet again failed to take his life.

"Harry!" Voldemort grabbed the small boy by the arms, turning him around to face him, "you have to mean it!" he yelled.

Watching the memory, Harry could feel his heart pound against his chest. Harry blasted the bubble apart again, only for another one to take it's place.

"Do you want him to live?" Voldemort asked, "this man, this servant of mine, was planning on ending me!"

Another bubble appeared when Harry destroyed the first one. Another one appeared next to it, then another, then anther until all four walls and doors were covered in large square bubbles, playing the memory out so it was all anyone could see.

Voldemort had roughly turned Harry around to stare at the Death Eater, dragging him closer to the bleeding man, still forced in place by Bella, "this worthless scum tried to take my place!" Voldemort said, "I want you to kill him, for trying to kill your father! This Death Eater was planning to kill me. He was _going_ to kill me. If he had succeeded, you would never have seen me again."

Feebly, Harry tried attacking the memory, tried to stop it before it revealed his crime that would forever separate him from his family. But anything he tried only made more memory bubbles appear, surrounding him with visual evidence of his darkness.

"How does that make you feel?" Voldemort asked, his voice echoing in the room, as numerous bubbles replayed the scene from every corner, "how does it feel to know this man came close to taking me away from you? Do you want to spare his life, knowing he wanted to kill me?"

Everyone watched as the memory Harry shook his head.

"No." he whispered.

Voldemort nodded at him.

"Then turn around and make sure he never does. Take aim, my son. End his miserable existence and exact revenge in your father's name."

Everyone saw Harry point his wand at the Death Eater, close enough to almost touch his forehead.

"P'ease," the man sobbed, "nuh! nuh!"

Watching the scene, Harry felt his chest tighten as his throat closed up and he felt he would never breathe again.

"Avada Kedavra!" the words were hissed with venom this time.

Green light shot out of the wand and hit the Death Eater, making his head hit the floor with a dull thud.

Silence fell across the room, with everyone staring at the memory, in which a ten year old child had murdered a grown man, at the behest of the darkest wizard of their time.

The sight of the lifeless body at the feet of his son, roused James from his terror stricken state. He tore his gaze away, blinking the tears out of his eyes. He looked to Damien, who was staring wide-eyed at the bubble. James' eyes found Lily's petrified stare. He looked past her, his mind on only one thing. Harry.

He turned, peering in the dimly lit room, whose only source of light was the numerous memory bubbles. But James already knew, even as he desperately searched the room, that he wasn't going to find him. Harry was gone.

Behind him, Voldemort's cold, cruel voice ended the memory.

"Well done, my son."

xxx

The doors banged open as James strode past them, pulling at the top button of his shirt. So brutal was his tug that he popped the buttons clean off. Remus ran out after him, Frank and Arthur behind him. Lily brought Damien out, both looking pale and a little shaky.

"Where could he go?" James asked himself as he ran down the corridor, "Harry! Harry!" he yelled, even though a part of him knew it was useless. Harry was gone.

"James, it's okay," Remus calmed, "we'll find him."

James slammed the grills aside and stepped into the elevator.

"Damn right, we'll find him," James snarled, "I'm not losing my son, not again."

"He'll be here, somewhere," Frank said, pale and shivering from watching that memory, "how far could he have gone?"

"Pretty far," James swallowed heavily.

"I'll take this floor," Remus said, "you-"

"No-" Lily spoke up behind them, "Harry's not here. He's left the building," she didn't know how she knew that, but she did. Something innate was screaming it at her.

"Come on," James beckoned them into the lift, "we have to get outside."

Remus, Frank, Arthur, Lily and Damien stepped into the elevator. James was so crazy with panic he didn't stop to consider what to do with little Damien. He vaguely heard Remus whisper to Arthur to take Damien home and leave him with Molly, who was uninterested in the Halloween party. James breathed in a deep breath, a vain effort to calm down, to keep his head clear so he could find Harry. He had to find him. He wasn't going to lose Harry again. Never again.

xxx

The street was dark and cold. A bunch of children, some dressed in black with pointed hats, some with capes and masks ran along the street, their parents chasing after them, laughing in delight. Harry passed by them, hardly seeing them. He walked along the street, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his robes, shoulders hunched to brave the cold.

Truth was, he could hardy feel the cold air pass over him. It was the icy hand closed around his insides that was making him shiver. The knowledge that his parents now knew who he really was, what he really was; Voldemort's assassin, a murderer.

_'...no mercy for those that take a life...'_

His mum's voice echoed in his head and Harry shivered, hunching his shoulders higher, ducking his head, wanting to hide but finding nothing that would cover him. That's what his mum had said when they talked about Voldemort, about his fate. What would his mum think now? Would she apply the same rule to him? Show him _no mercy_ now that she knew he too was a murderer, just like Lord Voldemort?

Harry turned the corner, aimlessly heading down the deserted street. He didn't know where he was going. He just knew that he had to get out of the Ministry building. He couldn't force himself to stay there and have everyone turn to stare at him in horror. He knew he didn't have it in him to see his parents' disgusted expressions. He couldn't bring himself to look and see disappointment in their eyes. He couldn't stand the thought that they would hate him now, now that they knew he wasn't an innocent. He was tainted. He was a part of the darkness that they, followers of the Light, fought against.

It wasn't the faint footsteps behind him that alerted Harry. Nor was it the familiar scent of the wizard that Harry had learned to sought comfort from. It wasn't even the sound of the deep chuckle that halted Harry mid-step. It was the ache in his scar that told Harry, his father had arrived.

Slowly, Harry turned around to see the red-eyed wizard, standing on his own, for once without his army of masked Death Eaters. Lord Voldemort smiled at Harry, crimson eyes glowing with delight at the sight of his little Dark Prince.

"Harry," the name rolled off his tongue, his voice silky and smooth, but it made Harry tremble nevertheless, "left the party so soon?" he sauntered over to him, "what's the matter? The entertainment not to your taste?"

Harry already knew the memory was sent by Voldemort. He probably had one of his many, many Ministry spies to play the thing at the party. To make sure it was played to the very end. Harry's distress must have shown on his face, despite his efforts to remain impassive, for Voldemort's cruel mask slipped too and he regarded the eleven year old boy with something akin to sympathy.

"Harry," he urged, "you brought this on yourself. It was not my wish to reveal your secret, not like this in any case. I too have suffered. I had to sacrifice a very prominent spy in order to show the world what you have done," the corners of his mouth lifted into a smile, "you can imagine Lucius' concern, having his true allegiance revealed along with your...secret."

Harry didn't say anything but remembered how fearful Lucius had been in the train, when he begged him to make contact with Voldemort, to stop him carrying out his plans.

_'...if you want to keep what you have, lie to him, tell him what he wants to hear, otherwise say goodbye to everything you hold dear, because Master will tear your life apart until nothing is left.'_

Lucius was right. Voldemort did tear his life apart. But now Harry realised Lucius' fear, his desperation wasn't just for Harry, but for his own self too. He wanted Harry to change Voldemort's mind, to stop him from going through with his plan, because if not, then he - Lucius - stood to lose everything too.

Voldemort's cold hands rested on Harry's shoulders, rousing the boy out of his thoughts.

"Lucius' sacrifice will be greatly rewarded," he assured, "but it was necessary for you to understand, for you to wake up and see the truths of the people around you," his grip tightened, "Harry, your parents, your so-called friends, the Ministry, that Order of the Phoenix, they are all nothing but weak minded bigots." he said. "They treated you kindly because they thought you were nothing more than a simple child. Show them your power and they will fear you and that fear will make them hate you," his eyes glistened, "you understand that, Harry? They hate you now. They've seen what you've done. They've seen you kill. They know you're tainted, that you have the essence of dark magic and that will set them upon the path to destroy you."

Harry didn't speak but his heart shattered at his words, knowing and believing that he was right. His parents would hate him. Damien would hate him, was probably afraid of him. Ron and Neville would hate him too when they found out. They would want him destroyed.

_'no mercy for those that take a life,' _echoed in his head again.

"Now you see, Harry," Voldemort continued, "there is no one here for you. No one that will accept you. No one, but me."

Harry looked up at him through big green eyes.

"I'm the only one that understands your darkness, Harry," Voldemort said, "I'm the only one that doesn't hate you for what you did. I'm proud of you, for your power, for your abilities. For someone to be able to carry the weight of the killing curse at the age of ten is a remarkable feat and I, alone, applaud you for that." he ran a hand through Harry's dark locks, caressing him, "it's over, son," he said softly, "it's time to come back home."

Harry let out a shaky breath and very slowly, nodded.

"You're right," he whispered.

Voldemort couldn't hold back his satisfied smirk. He had longed to hear those words.

"There is no one here for me, not anymore," Harry said, "you're right, my parents, my family, friends, they'll all hate me. They won't accept me." he looked up and the fierce green of his eyes hit Voldemort like a physical slap, "but that doesn't mean I'll come back to you."

Voldemort stared at him, taken by complete surprise. Harry pulled back, walking two steps away, so Voldemort's hands dropped away from him.

"What did you think?" Harry asked, "you reveal my truth, make my family disown me and what? I'll come running back to you?" he asked.

Voldemort's anger throbbed in Harry's scar, but the boy pushed the pain aside. He was far too angry, far too gone in his hurt to let anything distract him.

"You have nowhere else to go." Voldemort pointed out, desperately trying to reign in his anger.

"Then I'll live on the streets," Harry replied, "rather than come back to you."

"Enough!" Voldemort spat, his red eyes burning with rage, "I've had enough of this!"

"Then go for it!" Harry challenged, "come on. You want me? drag me back to _your_ home and I'll go the entire way kicking and screaming," he said. "What was it you had said? That I would come back to you of my own accord? That I would beg you to take away my memories? That I would come home myself?" he reminded. He stepped closer, green eyes glistening, "do what you want, but I will never come back to you willingly. I will never ask you for anything," he held the ruby red gaze, ignoring how badly his scar was aching, "I will never _choose_ you!"

Voldemort didn't say anything. He stood where he was, staring at Harry who refused to break eye contact either. In the distance, both heard the desperate cries of _'Harry' _as the Potters searched for their missing son. Voldemort raised his head and smirked, a cold cruel sneer that sent shivers down Harry's spine.

"That's what you think," he said and in a flourish of his robes, he was gone, having disapparated on the spot.

Harry was left reeling. He hadn't expected to be left alone. He had fully prepared himself to be dragged back to Riddle manor, by his hair no less. His sudden solitude threw him a little and he was left feeling disorientated.

"Harry? Harry?"

His mum and dad's cries were getting louder. A part of Harry wanted to disapparate too. He didn't know where he would go, but he just wanted to leave, so he wouldn't have to face his parents. But the other part of him, the bigger part told him to stay. To give in and let his parents do whatever it was they wanted to do. He was too tired to run, too broken to fear anymore.

Feeling the last of his strength leave him, Harry sunk to his knees, in the middle of the deserted street. He pushed himself to sit against the stone wall, drawing his knees up so he could clasp both hands around them.

"Harry? Harry, where are you?" his mum's crying voice reached him and Harry shivered.

"Harry, please!" Lily howled, "oh God!" she sobbed, "Harry! Harry!"

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head, hiding his face. He couldn't call back to her, not even at hearing her fear and her cries. He couldn't call back to James when he heard his frantic cries either. He wanted to, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

xxx

"Harry!" James shouted, cupping both hands around his mouth. He would have used the 'sonorous' charm had he been thinking clearly. "Harry!"

Remus and Frank were doing the same, running up and down the streets of London, looking for Harry. Lily was fast losing it, her shouts were turning into cries and if they didn't find Harry soon, James was certain he was going to lose Lily too.

"Harry!" Lily screamed, tears falling from her eyes, "Harry, please!" she begged, "oh please, please...Harry!"

James had to abandon his search and go to her, to hold her in his arms before she fell to pieces. Lily clung to her husband, trying with all her might to calm down, to push the tears back. She listened to James' calm words, clutched desperately at the assurances he was giving.

"We're going to find Harry. We'll find him. We're not going to lose him."

Lily nodded, taking huge gasps of air and pushed against James, wiping at her face. They couldn't waste time. They had to keep looking. They had to continue until they found him. Hand in hand, both husband and wife continued searching the darkened streets.

They turned the corner and Lily spotted him, the small boy sitting against the wall, halfway down the street. His head resting on his knees, face hidden. His messy head of hair gave Harry away instantly.

"Harry!" Lily screamed and ran, letting go of James' hand at once. "Harry! Harry!"

James raced behind her and both parents fell to the ground around Harry.

"Harry? Harry, you okay? Are you okay?" James asked, grabbing Harry from the arms.

With clear painful reluctance, Harry lifted his head so his parents could see his tear-stained face. His thick lashes were drenched, green eyes still glistening.

"You okay, Harry?" James asked again, seeing how pale his son was and how badly he was shivering, "why didn't you answer our calls? Didn't you hear us shouting for you?"

Silently, Harry nodded.

"Why didn't you call to us?" Lily asked, her breath misting in the cold air, "we thought..." she trailed off, not wanting to even say the words, 'lost you'. It was too painful.

"It's okay," James placated, "it's okay. We found you. It's okay now. It's all going to be okay."

Harry's lips quivered but he held back his sob. Nothing was going to be okay. Never again. Both James and Lily reached out for Harry, holding onto him.

"It's okay, Harry," James assured again, "it's okay."

Harry shook his head, his eyesight blurring by his tears.

"It's not," he managed in a hoarse whisper, "not after..." he looked up at James while tears continued to spill out of his eyes, "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so _so_ sorry, dad."

James felt his heart break. He pulled the boy into his arms, hugging him tightly as visions of the horrid memory flashed through his mind. What that _monster_ had forced his little boy to do.

"No, Harry, no," he struggled to keep back his own tears, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry you were in that situation."

Harry pulled back, sniffing. His nose was pink with the cold air and his eyes puffy from crying. He stared at James, holding his gaze and very quietly he asked the question that was eating him up on the inside.

"Do...do you still love me?"

James' heartbreak was such, you could see it in his expression.

"Harry?" he breathed, "of course I do," he held Harry to his chest again, "why would you doubt that?" he asked. Pulling him back, James met his eyes, "there is nothing, nothing you can do that would change how much I love you. I thought you knew that."

Harry looked over at his mum.

"Harry, " Lily started, surprised at his uncertain gaze, "you know that I love you," she said, "we love you and nothing, absolutely nothing can change that."

"Nothing?" Harry asked, "not even what you saw in the...the memory?"

Lily reached out, holding Harry by the arms.

"What happened wasn't your fault," she said, "you're not to blame."

"But you said, _no mercy for those that take a life_," Harry reminded.

Lily looked horror-stricken.

"When did I say that?" she asked.

"That night, when I asked you about Voldemort's fate. You said Voldemort had killed all those people, so he deserved the Kiss. That it was justice." he looked at her, "does that mean...I deserve the Ki-?"

"No, no, no," Lily shook her head fervently, "no, Harry, no, it's not the same. Voldemort kills because he wants to. You..." she faltered, "what you did... you were forced to do that...coerced and manipulated. It's not the same."

Harry stared at her, not looking convinced.

"But I still took a life. I killed someone."

"No, Harry," James shook his head, "Voldemort made you do it. The curse might have come from your mouth but it was all Voldemort's doing."

"No one is going to blame you for that," Lily said, "everyone saw how Voldemort tricked you. How he used your feelings to get you to use that curse," she held back the shudder. "You're not the one to blame."

Harry stared at both his parents, in disbelief that they still loved him. They didn't blame him. They didn't disown him. They didn't cast him aside. His relief was visible in the tears that continued to slide down his cheeks.

James rubbed the drops away and ran a hand through Harry's hair.

"Come on, let's get you out of the cold and back at home."

Harry allowed James to pull him to his feet. James and Lily wrapped an arm each around Harry and guided their exhausted son down the street, to find Remus and Frank and tell them the search was off, before disapparating back to their house, Godric's Hollow.

xxx

The next morning, Harry awoke in his bed, in his room at Godric's Hollow. Initially, Harry was confused as to how he got from Hogwarts to his home but as sleep drained away and unclouded his mind, the disastrous Halloween party came back to him. Harry shivered, even while perfectly warm in his bed, when he thought about that memory being played in front of everyone. He didn't even want to think about what was going to be in the papers this morning.

Harry wondered what the students at Hogwarts would react like to the news in the Daily Prophet. Would Ron and Neville believe it? Would they still talk to him when he went back? Harry pushed the thought away and got up, running a hand through his hair. The only ones he needed by his side were his mum and dad and he saw their love and support last night. If he lost everyone else, he was willing to accept that. As long as he had his family by his side.

He couldn't help but crumble under the sheer relief. He had been wrong. Voldemort had been wrong. His parents didn't hate him. They didn't disown him. They still loved him. They still cared about him. It was enough to make Harry smile, even though in the back on his mind, he knew things would be inherently different now that his secret was out.

Harry washed up and made his way downstairs. When he walked into the kitchen, he found his mum cooking breakfast and his dad sitting at the table. They both looked worried, lines of concern on their brow, but when Harry walked in they made a huge effort to smile.

"Morning, Harry," James greeted, "you sleep okay?"

"Yeah," Harry came to sit next to him.

"Good," James smiled. It was clear to see he and Lily didn't sleep a wink last night.

Harry looked around the table.

"Where's Damy?" he asked.

"He's still over at the Burrow." Lily replied, bringing a large platter of eggs and bacon over to the table, "Arthur took him last night and when I called after getting in last night, Damien was already asleep. Molly insisted he stayed the night so I left him there," Lily sat down and picked up her mug of tea, "there was no point in waking him up just to bring him here. We'll pick him up on the way to Hogwarts."

Harry tensed at the mention of the school.

"I know you're nervous," James said, holding onto Harry's arm, "and news about last night is already in the papers, so chances are, most of Hogwarts would have heard about what happened."

Harry's heart dropped like a stone.

"But everything will be sorted out." James assured, "I'm going to meet the Minister this morning and we'll sit down and discuss the matter. You don't have to worry, okay?"

Harry nodded but he knew his dad was lost in his wishful thinking. Nothing about this was going to be as easy as sitting down and sorting stuff out with the Minister.

Harry had no idea how right he was.

The floo turned green and a moment later, two wizards stepped out of the fireplace. James was surprised to see Kingsley and Sturgis in his kitchen, at half eight in the morning, dressed in Auror robes.

"Kingsley, Sturgis?" James got up from the table, "what a surprise." he stopped when he saw the solemn expressions on both. His gaze picked up the scrolled parchment in Kingsley's hand, "what's wrong?" James asked, "what's that you got there?"

Kingsley stepped forward, his gaze resting on Harry for a moment before turning to look at his fellow colleague, Order member and friend.

"James," he said and his deep voice resonated through the kitchen, "I'm afraid, I'm here on official Ministry orders," he held out his hand, offering James the scroll.

With a quick swipe, James took the parchment and opened it. Harry felt his stomach twist in knots as James' expression morphed into horror.

"What!" he exclaimed, "this is...this is insane!"

"What?" Lily rose to her feet, looking afraid, "James, what is it?"

But James didn't speak, he was busy rereading the letter, eyes narrowed, mouth opened in disbelief.

"Kingsley," he turned to him, "you can't-"

"I'm afraid, I have to," Kingsley cut him off. He stepped forward, turning to face the eleven year old boy at the table. "Harry James Potter," he started, "you are under arrest as decreed by the Ministry of Magic, for performing an Unforgiveable. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of wizarding laws."

Harry stood rooted to the spot. Under arrest? He was under arrest for using an Unforgiveable? Then it hit him, like a tidal wave. Of course he was under arrest. The memory of him killing a Death Eater was shown to a room full of Aurors, with the Minister of Magic himself present. Harry berated himself, how could he not have anticipated this? Harry's gaze flickered to his parents and he knew why. He had been so terrified of their reaction, he hadn't thought about anyone else.

"What!" Lily cried, "no, no, no! I don't think so," she fought, "you're not arresting my little boy!"

"This is fucking insane!" James raged, holding up the parchment.

"There are over two hundred witnesses that can testify they saw a memory in which your son cast the killing curse and murdered a young man," Sturgis said. "We happen to be part of that two hundred."

"Sturgis," James started, "didn't you see the part where Voldemort was breathing down his neck, _forcing_ him to cast the curse?" he asked angrily.

"He cast the killing curse." Kingsley pointed out.

"Yeah, three times!" James cried, "he didn't want to kill that man, his curses failed!" he scrunched up the parchment and threw it across the kitchen, "this is bullshit! You can't arrest my son when it's clear to see he was coerced and pushed into casting that Unforgiveable!"

"But he _cast_ the Unforgiveable," Kingsley said sadly, "and you know as well as I do, it's lifetime in Azkaban for casting an Unforgiveable, coerced or not."

James fell silent, hazel eyes wide and unblinking. Kingsley and Sturgis walked over to Harry and gently held onto his arms.

"Come on, Harry," Sturgis said quietly, "we have to go."

They led him to the door, so they could walk past the edge of the wards and disapparate to the Ministry.

"Dad?" Harry called, panic and fear in his voice.

James snapped out of his shock and ran towards his colleagues.

"Wait, just...just wait a God damn moment!"

"James, you can't do anything to stop this," Sturgis urged, "you know the law."

"Yes, I know the law!" James snapped back, "and I know that you can't arrest a minor without their parent's acceptance."

Sturgis stared at him.

"What are you saying?" he asked.

"You take Harry," James said, "you have to take me too."

Harry stared up at his dad, shocked to his core.

Kingsley and Sturgis looked miserable, having to arrest one of their own.

"Are you sure about this?" Kingsley asked, "resisting arrest? You know the penalty."

James in response pried their fingers off Harry's arms and took hold of his son's hand.

"We'll go to the Ministry and straighten this crap out," James said, "but you're not taking Harry anywhere without me."

Kingsley and Sturgis nodded.

"Very well." Kingsley relented and they headed towards the door.

"James?" Lily moved towards him but James held out a hand, stopping her.

"Everything's going to be fine. Contact Dumbledore, tell him to meet me at the Ministry."

Lily nodded, her eyes tearing at the sight of Harry.

"We'll meet you there," she said.

James held onto Harry's hand tightly as they walked into the back garden and made their way to the fence.

"Don't worry, Harry," James comforted. "I'm right here. I'll sort everything out," he assured, "it's a misunderstanding, it'll get sorted out," he smiled tightly at Harry, "you'll be back at Hogwarts before you know it."

Harry didn't say anything but he knew he wasn't going back to Hogwarts. That much he knew for certain.

xxx


	16. Being Brave

**Disclaimer** I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

**Chapter Sixteen**

The room was far too small, with no windows and a single white door. Harry tried not to let the claustrophobic air bother him, but it was a battle he was fast losing. He sat at the small table, with his dad next to him. James was trying hard to keep Harry calm; smiling reassuringly at him, comforting him with promises of, _'all would be sorted out'_ and _'not to worry'_. Truth was, Harry was far past worrying. He could see the uncertainty in his dad's eyes, could sense the fear past the tight smiles. He could read the lines of worry on his dad's brow and he knew he was in trouble, the kind that his dad couldn't get him out of.

The door opened and Kingsley appeared.

"James, Dumbledore's here."

James quickly got up and hurried to the door. Due to the restrictions, visitors to the Ministry couldn't go past certain areas. Dumbledore wouldn't be permitted access to the holding rooms so James had to go out to see him. Harry followed after him, but stayed at the door, next to Kingsley. Harry watched as his dad practically ran across the hall to the tall, white-haired Dumbledore. Standing just behind him, looking pale and worried, was Lily.

James reached Dumbledore and shook hands with him, looking somewhat relieved. Harry's eyes were on his mother, waiting for her searching gaze to find him. When it did, Lily's expression changed from worried to relieved. She hurried towards him, but two Aurors stopped her, shaking their heads, gesturing for her to step back.

Harry watched with a heavy heart as his mum fought back, trying her best to reach him. James had to interfere, pulling Lily away from the Aurors, and holding her hand as he continued his discussion with Dumbledore.

Harry was not particularly good at reading body language, but even he could tell Dumbledore had brought bad news. The way he was standing; his shoulders drooped and head bowed, as if apologetic, told Harry there wasn't much he could do to help. Harry had already guessed as much. He looked over to his dad, who was shaking his head, arguing with Dumbledore.

"You should go back inside, Harry," Kingsley spoke from beside him, watching James fast lose his calm. "Your dad will join you soon."

Harry turned to go back when a loud shout caught his attention. He turned around but it wasn't his dad who had yelled. It wasn't even the Aurors. It was another dark haired man, making his way towards them, pushing his way past the Aurors.

"Get out of my way!" Sirius snarled, as he shoved an Auror aside.

"You're not permitted past these doors," one of the several Aurors said. "You're still suspended, Black. You're not allowed into the holding units."

"_You're_ going to stop _me, _Stevens?" Sirius asked angrily. "Try it!"

James hurried after Sirius, before he got himself hexed by the surrounding Aurors. As James spoke with his colleagues, Sirius shook himself out of their grips. His gaze darted past the rest before finally settling on Harry. The anger melted off him. Sirius' eyes softened at the sight of his Godson. He stepped past James and the Aurors, only to have two more Aurors step in his way, halting him.

Harry couldn't stop himself. He ran down the hall before Kingsley could interfere. He raced past the Aurors, straight to Sirius. The Aurors moved back when Harry threw his arms around his Godfather. Sirius wrapped Harry in a tight embrace before he pulled Harry back and knelt before him.

"You okay, kiddo?"

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

Sirius brushed a hand through Harry's hair before slowly straightening up.

"What's going on?" he asked the gathered Aurors. "You're holding a _boy_ for murder?"

"Black, you can't be here," one Auror – Stevens – said. "Your suspension doesn't end until another week-"

"He's eleven years old for _fuck's_ sake!" Sirius cursed. "You're honestly holding him under arrest?"

"Sirius," Dumbledore arrived to stand next to him. "It's no good. We have to speak to the Minister, not the Aurors."

Harry turned to his mum, who had hurried after Dumbledore. He hugged her as well, taking a moment to just stand in her warm embrace.

"You must step back," Stevens said again. "You're not authorised to be here."

"We understand," Dumbledore pacified the man. "Sirius, Lily?" he prompted gently.

With great difficulty, Harry pulled himself out of his mum's arms and stepped back. James came to his side, while Dumbledore guided Lily and Sirius back, to the designated visitor area. It was just in time too, as the Minister for Magic arrived, flanked by a large group of Aurors. Fudge didn't meet anyone's eyes, focusing instead on the door to the holding room.

"Minister," James came forward at once, joined by Dumbledore and Lily. "Minister, wait."

Fudge came to a stop but held up his hands, shaking his head even before James started speaking.

"I'm sorry, Auror Potter, but I don't have the time to hear anything you have to say," he announced loudly. "You will have your chance to speak when you explain, why you resisted the arrest of your son when you were served with an arrest warrant."

"You can't do this," James went on regardless. "He's only a boy, Minister. You can't arrest him."

"Only a boy?" Fudge glance down at Harry with a pompous grin. "Yes, he is _only_ a boy. Yet, he managed to execute a man, casting a powerful Unforgiveable."

"You saw what happened," James said, barely able to hold back his anger. "You saw what kind of pressure he was under!"

"Regardless, he still killed a man," Fudge argued. He looked down at Harry again. "The Ministry has to take swift action. No one is above the law." He looked back around at James. "Not even your son, I'm afraid, Auror Potter."

"This is bullshit!" James lost his battle to stay calm. "This isn't about the law! You're using this against me, against my son, getting back at him for not cooperating with you!"

Fudge laughed, holding up both his hands.

"I have no idea what you mean by that."

"You know _exactly_ what I mean!" James spat, taking a step forward.

Kingsley and two other Aurors blocked James, holding him back.

"Easy, James, easy," Kingsley muttered.

James, however, was far past the point of listening to anyone. He pointed an accusatory finger at the Minister.

"You're using this against my son, for your own agenda!" he yelled. "You saw what happened! You saw how he was coerced and practically forced to cast that Unforgiveable. You saw it took Harry three tries before the spell even worked! But you're ignoring that, why? Just because you couldn't get your way? You scheming son-of-!"

"Auror Potter you're already facing a term of at least three months in Azkaban for resisting arrest," Fudge interrupted calmly. "I suggest you don't make things worse for yourself."

"Screw you and your threats!" James snarled, fighting against the hold on him. "You want to send me to prison, fine! But you leave my boy out of this!"

"James!" Kingsley roughly jostled him. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Cool it, Potter," Stevens muttered to him.

"Minister," Dumbledore had forced his way over, leaving the designated visitor bay, along with Lily and a furious Sirius. "Perhaps it would be beneficial to sit and discuss the matter, calmly." Dumbledore's blue eyes flashed at James, warning him to keep his cool.

"Gladly," the Minister replied, grinning from ear to ear. "But this matter is none of your concern." He dismissed Dumbledore and turned to his Aurors. "Take them back to their room, until they're calm enough to talk." He gestured to James and Harry, before turning around to walk away.

James tried to pull himself free, but Kingsley wasn't letting go. He was still whispering to James, telling him to calm down as he pulled him towards the room. The rest of the Aurors were pushing Lily and Sirius back, asking them to leave. Dumbledore was arguing with them, wanting to speak to the Minister.

Harry had stood by, watching quietly as his dad lost control. He watched as the Minister gloated. He watched as his dad's fellow colleagues and friends had to hold his dad back. But when the Auror came to usher him back to the room, Harry pulled away from him and turned around.

"Minister?"

Fudge stopped at Harry's call and turned to look at him.

"I want to speak to you," Harry said. "In private."

Minister Fudge looked thrown. His gaze darted to James, who was staring at Harry with surprise. Even Sirius and Lily had turned to look at Harry with stunned expressions. Fudge gestured to the Auror next to Harry.

"Room three," he instructed.

James struggled as Kingsley tried to get him to go to the next room.

"No!" James cried, "I'm going with him!"

"It's okay, dad," Harry called to him as an Auror led him to the room, behind the Minister. "It's okay."

James was forced into the holding room before the door closed, locked with an audible snap.

xxx

The door clicked open almost an hour later. Kingsley walked in, wearing a grim expression.

"What happened?" James asked at once, hurrying towards him.

Kingsley met his eyes with difficulty.

"We're taking Harry to Nurmengard."

"What!" James exclaimed. "What the hell is going on? This is..this is fucking insane!"

"He's going to wait there, until the trial," Kingsley explained.

"When are they moving him?" James asked.

"Today. The Minister's already signed the papers," Kingsley replied.

"Fine," James ground out tightly. "If they want to play this game, then so be it. Fudge is out of his mind! The Wizengamot isn't going to sentence a child!"

He moved towards the door, to go to Harry, to accompany his son to Nurmengard. Kingsley held out a hand.

"You're not going with Harry, James," he said quietly, regret thick in his voice.

"What?" James frowned.

With great difficulty, Kingsley lifted his gaze to meet James'.

"Harry asked for you to be held back."

"He what?" James exclaimed, shocked.

"He..." Kingsley faltered. "He blatantly asked for you to be pardoned for interfering with his arrest. He wants you to be kept out of this. If the Minister agreed to pardon you, for everything that happened today, Harry hinted he would put up no resistance to being questioned about Voldemort."

James shook his head, refusing to believe Harry had traded his closely guarded secrets for his pardon.

"I don't care what the Minister says," he snapped. "I'm going with my son!"

"You can't," Kingsley said. "Harry's made sure you don't go to prison with him." He paused, before pushing on. "He...he made a claim against you."

"A claim?" James frowned. "What kind of a claim?"

"He said your presence would hinder his ability to answer questions truthfully about...about his past."

James gaped at Kingsley, lost for words.

"What the hell is he doing?" he cried.

"He's trying to protect you."

"Protect _me!_" James thundered. "_I'm_ not the one the needs to be protected!"

Past the open door, James saw Harry heading to the elevator, an Auror on either side of him.

"Harry!" James called, darting out of the room, running towards him. "Harry! Wait!"

Two Aurors blocked him, before he could get anywhere near Harry. Still waiting in the hallway, albeit on the furthest side to the holding rooms, Lily, Sirius and Dumbledore hurried forward.

"Harry!" James yelled, calling after his son, trying to get past the two men and Kingsley. "No Harry! Wait!"

Harry looked back at him with regretful eyes. He shook his head at James, gesturing to him to stay back, to not get involved. Before James could force his way past his fellow Aurors and before Lily and Sirius could get to Harry, the Aurors ushered the eleven year old into the elevator and they sunk out of sight.

xxx

Harry got out of the small boat and started making his way towards the towering black tower. It was already past nightfall so there wasn't much Harry could see about Nurmengard. The Aurors led him through the big black doors and down a set of stairs. The air was cold and damp. The sound of the waves crashing on the rocks of the small island unnerved Harry. He tried to ignore it the best he could.

The two Aurors led Harry down a long narrow hall, towards the three waiting Nurmengard guards. The blond one in the middle stepped forward, a tired smile on his face. He looked at Harry with a confused expression, his blue eyes narrowing as he scanned Harry from top to bottom.

"Evening," he greeted, as Harry and the two Aurors came to rest before him.

Without returning his greeting, the sour-faced Auror handed the guard a scroll.

The blond guard took the scroll and unfurled it. His eyes widened with disbelief as he read the few lines. He looked from the letter straight to Harry, his mouth hanging open.

"Is this a joke?" he asked, glancing up at the Aurors

"Does it seem like it?" the same Auror snapped back.

The guard looked back at the parchment before looking at Harry.

"Harry James Potter," he murmured. "Any relation to Auror James Potter?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably, but held back from answering.

"He's James' eldest son." The other Auror supplied, quietly.

The guard looked thrown. He rubbed his hand down the front of his uniform, shifting from one foot to the other, seemingly uncertain of what he should do.

"Auror Potter's son?" he asked, "being held for murder?"

"Are we going to stand here all night?" the grumpy Auror snapped. "We have a boat ride to catch."

The guard didn't say anything. He pocketed the parchment and stepped forward.

"I'll take it from here," he said. "You can leave."

The Aurors turned at once and hurried away. It seemed taking a mere child to Nurmengard prison wasn't an easy feat for the Aurors. They were used to dealing with Death Eaters and criminals, not eleven year old boys.

Taking a deep breath, Harry turned to the three shocked looking guards. They all looked uncertain, glancing to one another, sharing uncomfortable looks.

"Come on," the blond guard said. "This way."

Harry followed after him, aware of the other two guards behind him. He found it morbidly funny. What did the guards at Nurmengard think he was going to do? Tiptoe away while the guard had his back turned to him? Where was he going to go? Hide somewhere in Nurmengard?

Harry walked down the corridor, passing rows upon rows of dark, iron-barred cells. The sight made a shiver run down Harry's spine. He was going to be put in one of those cells. The mere thought was making him claustrophobic, stealing the air from his lungs. He pushed the fear aside and forced himself to take in a deep, calming breath. There was nothing that could be done about the situation. He needed to stay strong and just take it.

The guard leading Harry seemed to be having trouble choosing which cell to put the child in. He passed each dirty, damp one with a little shake of his head, his brow lined and eyes shadowed. He finally came to a stop, in front of a small windowless cell. He opened the door and turned to Harry, gesturing for him to enter. Harry walked in, trying his best to ignore the claustrophobic feel of the tiny place. His distress must have showed, despite his attempts to stay calm, for the guard started explaining to him,

"I would've given you a cell with a window, but in this weather, it'd be freezing."

Harry nodded stiffly.

The door slammed shut and clicked loudly, signalling it was locked. The guard stayed at the door, staring at Harry through the bars.

"I'm sure this is a big misunderstanding," he said with a forced smile. "It'll get cleared up soon. You'll be out of here and back home before you know it."

Harry looked up at him, but still didn't speak.

The guard held a hand to his chest.

"The name's Jackson, Paul Jackson," he smiled. "You need anything, you just give me a shout, okay?"

Harry gave another small nod.

Jackson smiled again and moved away, taking the other two guards with him. Their steps echoed on the stone floor, growing faint as they moved away. Harry looked around the cell, at the bleak bricked walls. There was a single torch burning in one corner and a hole in the ground, presumably the toilet. That was it. There was nothing else in the cell.

Harry's panic was creeping up inside him. His heart was beating so fast and hard, it felt like it would leave his chest bruised. The first moments of being left alone had him almost lose his nerves. Harry closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands as he sunk down to sit against the wall. He brought his knees up and rested his elbows on his knees. He sat like that for long minutes, contemplating his fate. What was he going to do now? What would happen at his trial? He had struck a deal with the Minister, so his dad could be freed, but Harry wasn't planning on following through with it. There was nothing in this world that would make him give up his father's secrets.

Harry lifted his head and stared around at the small, dirty, smelly cell. He was here _because_ of his father. This was all Voldemort's doing. He had exposed him in front of the Ministry. His father must have known this would be the outcome. A small bitter smile came to Harry. Of course Voldemort knew. This was his pre-planned punishment, should Harry refuse to go back to him. And yet, he was still unwilling to give up Voldemort's secrets? He wondered what was wrong with him? Why did he still feel so damn loyal to the one person that was systematically ruining his life?

With a sigh, Harry picked himself up and moved to the middle of the cell. He was tired but there was no bed, no mattress, not even a blanket. All Harry had to sleep on was the cold stone floor. Harry lay down, using his hands to protect his head. He stared at the flickering shadows on the ceiling, lost in his thoughts about how he was going to get out of this mess.

A faint chinking sound distracted him. Harry moved his head to the side, staring at the dark corridor. He couldn't see anything but empty cells. Another tinkle echoed around him. Harry listened hard, screwing up his eyes so he could see past the dark. Nothing moved in the shadows. Another tiny clink; the tell-tale sound of coins hitting the floor, one at a time, echoed around him. Harry sat up, staring past his bars.

Something small moved towards him. It came from the dark spot in the corridor, rolled right through the gap in the bars and knocked against Harry's hand, coming to rest before him. Harry's heart missed a beat at the familiar coin. He picked the bronze talisman up and stared at it with disbelief. It was the same coin that had rested at the bottom of his cupboard.

A tinkling laugh made Harry look up, in time to see the wild haired gypsy step out of the darkness. She was dressed exactly how Harry had first seen her, at the muggle circus. The golden discs on her yellow top and skirt, glistened in the glow of the torches. The gypsy smiled, flashing her perfect white teeth.

"My, my," she said, leaning both arms against the bars of Harry's cell. "How the mighty and powerful have fallen."

Harry stood up, staring at her with shocked surprise.

"How?" He stepped nearer. "How can you be here?" He strained to look in the direction of the guards.

Gazelle laughed, throwing her head back, making the curly black hair flit this way and that.

"Don't you worry, child. No one can see or hear me." She smirked and pointed a finger at him. "I'm for your eyes only."

Harry felt his surprise quickly change to annoyance.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

Gazelle took a moment to study him; her dark eyes drank him in.

"I warned you," she said quietly. "I told you the lines on your brow told of how unkind your fate was to be." She sighed dramatically. "But the young, they never listen."

"What do you want?" Harry asked, not in any mood to play games.

"That's not the right question, is it?" the gypsy said. "It's what you want that matters."

Harry fell quiet. Gazelle moved closer, pressing herself as close to the bars as she could.

"You do know, how much trouble you're in, don't you?" she asked. "This is nothing. It gets much, much worse."

Harry smiled back at her.

"You're clairvoyant now?" he asked. "I thought that was just a get-up to fool the muggles."

"A fool is a fool," Gazelle grinned, "muggle or wizard, it doesn't really matter."

"This is one wizard you're not going to fool," Harry said.

"Oh, I know," Gazelle said. "I learned that lesson, when my boggart plan not only failed but backfired."

Harry's eyes widened with shock.

"That was you?" he asked. "You planted that boggart in Sirius' trunk?"

Gazelle grinned again.

"I admit, I underestimated you. I never thought, for even a moment, that you would reveal your secret to your parents." She ran her fingers up and down the steel bars. "I had assumed you would rather die than admit your weaknesses. I thought your refusal to talk would irritate your parents, to the point that your relationship with them would become painful and awkward." She flashed Harry another grin. "But instead of growing apart, you confided in your parents, becoming closer to them. You can imagine my humiliation."

"Humiliation isn't what I'm imagining for you," Harry glowered.

Gazelle laughed again.

"I only did it so you would ask for my help," she smiled at him. "If you had, you would've averted all this trouble." She tilted her head to the side and gave Harry another long look. "I can still help you. All you need to do, is ask."

Harry stared at her.

"What can you do?"

"Anything," Gazelle replied. "I can make all this go away," she said. "The world, your parents, everyone will forget what they saw in that memory. It will be as if that party never happened. You will have your freedom, your life again, everything you want-"

"Except my powers," Harry interrupted.

Gazelle smiled.

"There has to be a price."

"This one is too high."

Gazelle held onto the bars and pushed herself closer.

"What good are your powers if you're stuck behind bars, unable to use them?" she asked. "Would it not be better for you to give them up and gain freedom? To erase your horrible past from all the minds of the ones you love?"

Harry paused. He considered this for a moment.

"What would you do?" he asked. "Would you only erase the memory of my kill from everyone's mind, or would you make it so it never happened? I never made that kill?"

Gazelle hesitated, her dark-eyed gaze dropped to the floor, leaving Harry for the first time since arriving.

"I can give you whatever you want," she said. "You just have to give me all of your magic in return."

Harry stared at her before slowly, resolutely shaking his head.

"I don't believe you," he said. "You'll tell me anything to get my power."

"You know Gypsies can do anything."

"I know they can't change the past," Harry said.

Gazelle's eyes blazed with anger.

"I can do anything!"

"Except take my magic from me," Harry smirked. "Thanks but I think I'll rather stay as a wizard and figure my own way out of this crap, rather than take your help and turn into a squib."

Gazelle glared at him, moving away from his cell.

"You stupid boy," she slowly shook her head at him. "You have no idea what's coming." She smirked and nodded at the coin at Harry's feet. "Keep that coin, boy. You'll need it, mark my words. You will bow before me, on your knees and _beg_ me to help you!"

Harry smirked.

"Don't hold your breath."

Gazelle turned around and with a snapping sound she was gone, taking the light from all the torches with her, plunging Harry into total darkness.

xxx


	17. Coming Home

**Disclaimer** I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

**Chapter Seventeen**

Harry wasn't sure how, but he had managed to fall asleep. He woke up when the torch flickered to life, basking his tiny cell with a dull glow. Harry sat up, his body sore and stiff from sleeping on the hard floor. A faint pop made him look over, spotting the bowl and goblet appear in the corner. Getting up, Harry walked over to it. The bowl contained a strange grey gruel that didn't look too appetising and the goblet was filled with water. Harry sat down next to the bowl and picked it up. It didn't smell too good either. The last time Harry had ate anything was at the Ministry's Halloween party and that was two days ago. The Aurors had come yesterday morning, before Harry had a chance to eat any breakfast. The rest of his day was spent in the Ministry and then travelling to Nurmengard. No Auror or guard had thought to offer him anything to eat; so by now, Harry was too hungry to care what the gruel looked, smelled or even tasted like. He spooned the mushy gooey stuff into his mouth and swallowed, trying not to taste it too much. The water was lukewarm and slightly salty, but Harry downed the goblet nevertheless. Harry remained sitting in the corner, absently toying with the empty goblet.

He heard the footsteps long before he saw the blond-haired guard, Paul Jackson, appear at his door, holding a plate and goblet. He looked surprised to see Harry awake and sitting in the corner.

"Morning," he greeted, his blue eyes narrowed slightly at the empty bowl next to Harry. "You've already had breakfast, huh?"

Harry didn't say anything.

"I brought you a sandwich," Jackson held up the plate, "and a goblet of drinkable water. The usual breakfast here isn't..." he paused, looking for the right word, "too appealing."

Harry still didn't say anything but watched as the guard put the plate and goblet down and wave his wand over it. The plate and goblet disappeared, reappearing next to Harry.

"Nurmengard has a default setting," Jackson explained. "It sends the standard meal to every occupied cell."

Harry nodded, but didn't reply.

Paul didn't say anything and quietly walked away, leaving Harry to his thoughts.

xxx

It was no later than mid-morning when Paul Jackson arrived at Harry's cell door again, the two guards from last night with him. He slid Harry's door open, surprising him.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, wary all of a sudden, as he eyed the wands in all three guard's hands.

"You have a visitor," Jackson replied.

Harry didn't know if it was Jackson's expression or just the way he spoke, but Harry knew at once who the visitor was. He got up and hurried out of his cell, following the guards down a narrow corridor, up a set of stairs and to a room. Jackson opened the door and Harry saw that he was right; his dad was waiting for him inside. James turned around as soon as the door clicked open. His tired face didn't break into a smile but he let out a deep breath; a gasp of relief at the sight of Harry. He moved towards him quickly.

Harry's bravado crumbled the moment he saw his dad. Tears that he had worked so hard to keep at bay stung his eyes. He stepped forward, wanting nothing more than to hide in his dad's embrace. James dropped to his knees and held Harry tight to his chest, a hand in Harry's hair, caressing it softly.

"You okay?" he asked against Harry's ear.

Harry in reply, tightened his grip around James. He didn't want to speak, didn't want to think. He just wanted to stay nestled in his dad's protective embrace and for a few moments, forget everything and just feel safe.

The door clicked closed behind him and Harry absently realised the guard must have stepped out, giving them some privacy. After long minutes, James gently pulled Harry back, staring at him with moist eyes.

"What did you think you were doing?" he asked quietly, his emotions breaking his voice.

Harry dropped his gaze, sniffing.

"I didn't want you to go to prison," he replied.

"So you struck a deal with the Minister?" James asked. "Harry, it's not your job to protect me. Fathers protect their sons, not the other way around."

Harry looked up at him.

"That's not the way I've been brought up."

James stilled, horrified. He pressed his lips together, to stop his emotions from getting the best of him. He raked a hand through Harry's messy hair before pulling him in for another hug. When both James and Harry got a grip on themselves, they pulled apart, wiping their tear-stained cheeks. James got up and led Harry to the table and two chairs.

"Where's mum?" Harry asked, calming down enough to notice her absence.

"She can't come here, Harry. Only Aurors are permitted to come to Nurmengard," James explained sadly.

Harry's stomach lurched at the realisation that he couldn't see his mum again, not while he was in this prison.

"What about Azkaban?" Harry asked. "Can she come to see me there?"

James blanched.

"Don't," he started, shaking his head. He closed his eyes. "Don't even...you're not going to Azkaban. I won't let that happen."

Harry fell quiet.

"I know things seem really bad right now," James said, reaching out to hold onto Harry's hand, looking him in the eyes, "but believe me, Harry, we'll get through this, okay? We _will_ get through this."

Harry didn't share his dad's hopefulness, so he refrained from answering.

"How's mum?" he asked, instead. "Is she alright?"

James grimaced.

"She's coping," he said, "as best she can. Being away from you...it's killing her." He ran a hand through his hair, breathing out heavily. "She's not taking it very well that she can't come to see you. She was still at the Ministry, kicking up a right fuss when I left to come here."

"Really?" Harry asked, worried about his mum's well being but also overwhelmed that his mum missed him enough to fight for him.

"I had to leave, otherwise my pass would be revoked too," James explained.

"Too?" Harry asked.

"Remus was coming with me, but he backed Lily, fighting with the wrong person. His pass was quickly revoked. I had to leave them and come. I had to see you."

Harry smiled, despite the situation and his current predicament.

"I know you said to the Minister that you would give him information," James started, "but somehow I don't quite believe that."

Harry dropped his gaze.

"Harry?" James called, "please tell me you're not planning on double crossing Fudge?"

Harry gave a weak shrug.

"I didn't promise him anything," he replied. "I said I would consider it."

"Harry," James groaned, leaning over to hold onto both of Harry's hands. "Fudge isn't going to let you get away with that. He wants information, he'll force it from you."

"That's what he thinks," Harry said. "Look where I am, dad. What more can the Minister do to me?"

James swallowed heavily.

"He can do a lot worse, Harry."

Quite suddenly, Harry remembered the Gypsy's words from last night, _'This is nothing. It gets much, much worse.' _The recollection made a shiver run down Harry's spine. He didn't want to admit the possibility that the Gypsy could be telling the truth. He would rather believe anything else.

"We're going to push for an early trial date," James continued. "Just let Dumbledore do the talking. Offer something to the Wizengamot, Harry. I'm not saying give up all the secrets, but offer enough so they think you're helping."

"You mean I should make them think I've betrayed Lord Voldemort?" Harry asked, quietly.

James paused.

"If it gets you out of here and back home, then yes, I want you to do just that."

Harry held his dad's gaze before slowly, resolutely, shaking his head.

"I can't do that."

"Harry-"

"I'm sorry," Harry cut him off. "I know you want me to rat him out," Harry said, "but I'm not a snitch."

"I'm not asking you to be one," James said. "I know that's how you feel. All I'm saying is make the Minister and the Wizengamot think you're giving valuable information and they'll pardon you."

"I don't know, dad," Harry began.

"Please, Harry," James said, "I'm begging you. Just play along. Give little bits of information, act like an ally and the Ministry will think of you as one and pardon you."

A knock sounded on the door before it opened. Paul Jackson stepped in.

"Your times up," he said, somewhat regretfully.

James nodded at him, before fixing his stare on Harry.

"I'll try and come tomorrow," he said, "but getting passes to this place isn't-"

"It's okay, dad," Harry cut him off. "I understand."

James smiled bitterly, his eyes welling up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a hand mirror, half wrapped in brown paper.

"Here," he handed it to Harry. "Use this to communicate with us while you're here. Just hold it up and say my name, or your mum's and we'll answer your call."

Harry held onto the mirror, his heart racing at the one small connection he had to his family. Almost immediately, the guard was standing over him.

"I'm sorry," Jackson said, addressing James, "but there are no personal items permitted."

James frowned at him.

"It's just a mirror," he said. "It's been checked at your front desk."

"I understand," Jackson replied, "but you cannot leave it here. I'm afraid you'll have to take it back with you."

Harry's grip instinctively tightened around the handle.

James looked to Harry before standing up, coming face to face with Jackson.

"The mirror's harmless," he said. "It can't do anything other than let Harry see his mum and brother, since they can't come here to see him." James held Jackson's gaze. "He's only eleven years old," he said quietly, "and he's stuck here for Merlin knows how long. This way, he can see his family. It'll bring a little comfort-"

"I understand," Jackson interrupted, "but protocols can't be overlooked." He held up a hand when James looked set to argue. "Look, Auror Potter, I have a great deal of respect for you and I feel for you, I do," his gaze darted to Harry, before going back to James, "but I can't ignore the rules. I'm sorry."

James nodded slowly, taking a moment to look at the young guard.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Paul Jackson," the guard replied, his tone one of agitation, "and if you want to make a formal complaint, you should take my badge number-"

"I don't want to make a complaint," James shook his head, "but tell me something, Jackson," he moved a step closer. "You have kids?"

Jackson stilled.

"My wife's expecting in three months," he replied.

James nodded slowly.

"So in three months time, you'll know what it feels like to be a father," James said quietly. "In three months, you might understand what it's like to have a child and maybe then, you might be able to contemplate what it feels like to be forced apart." He met Jackson's blue-eyed gaze. "I'm not asking you to break the rules," he said, "but to remember that these rules weren't meant for eleven year olds."

Jackson blinked a few times. He turned his head to look at Harry, his gaze fixed to Harry's face before dropping to the mirror clutched in his hand. He looked back at James.

"He can't have it with him in his cell," he said, "but I can keep it for him. He can use the mirror once a day, for ten minutes. That's the time permitted for a visit, which is what this will be categorised as. That's all I can do for you."

James couldn't help his relieved smile.

"Thank you," he said, shaking Jackson's hand.

Jackson nodded and stepped towards the door, holding it open for James, asking him silently to leave.

With great reluctance, James turned to Harry, taking him in his embrace for the last time that day.

"Don't worry, Harry," he whispered in the child's ear. "I'll bring you back home, I promise. Just trust me son. I'll always bring you back home."

xxx

That night passed slowly for Harry. He was told by Jackson he could use the mirror tomorrow, since James' visit counted as that day's allowed one visit. The next morning, Harry could barely wait for Jackson to appear and bring the mirror so he could speak to his mum and dad and maybe even Damien.

The bowl of gruel and disgusting water appeared the same time as yesterday and just like before, Harry hungrily went through it. Although this time, Harry had to force it down and fight to keep it down.

Jackson appeared half an hour later, holding a plate with a goblet balanced on it, in one hand and the mirror in the other. A folded newspaper was tucked under one arm.

"Morning, Harry," Jackson greeted and passed the mirror to him through the bars. "You finished the bowl again?" he asked, stooping low to place the plate and goblet down. "Don't eat too much of that stuff, it'll make you ill." He pulled out his wand and waved it over the sandwich and goblet, transporting it inside.

Harry didn't reply, but noticed the newspaper under Jackson's arm.

"Is that todays?" he asked.

Jackson followed Harry's gaze and pulled out the Daily Prophet.

"Yeah."

"Can I see it?"

Jackson looked surprised.

"You like reading the paper?" he asked, with a smile. "I knew it. You're not eleven," he chuckled.

Harry remained impassive.

"I just want to check something."

Jackson's smile fell a little.

"I would avoid the front page," he said, slotting the paper through the bars. "It's all hyperactive nonsense."

Harry took the newspaper but waited for Jackson to leave before unfolding it. Even in the limited light, Harry could see the bold headlines, 'Boy Kills for You-Know-Who' on the front cover. Harry walked over to the wall that held the torch and slid down it to sit on the floor. He stared at the picture of himself, with his mum and dad and Damien, waiting at platform 9 and ¾ for the Hogwarts Express. He didn't even realise anyone had snapped their picture that day. His face had been marked with a red circle. An arrow pointed to it, with a caption reading, 'Harry Potter; the Boy Who Killed for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.'

Harry forced himself not to read the article. He knew it would bother him far too much and there was nothing he could do about it. No matter how hard he tried though, he couldn't stop himself from fretting over what others would be feeling, reading about him. What his dad and mum must feel like? What about Sirius and even Remus? His heart skipped a beat. What about Neville and Ron? What would they be thinking?

With a quick swipe, Harry turned the page, searching for the reason he had asked for the paper. He had to scan three pages before he found what he was looking for. A half page report gave Harry an update on Lucius Malfoy.

_'The once highly respected, Lucius Malfoy, is still missing. Sources claim Lucius Malfoy seemingly vanished into thin air with no one aware of his whereabouts. Lucius Malfoy, who is considered one of the most wealthy and influential wizards of this era, was discovered as a supporter of You-Know-Who, when a memory was revealed to the Ministry of Magic during their annual Halloween Ball. Sources claim the memory showed Lucius Malfoy assisting You-Know-Who, and who has now been confirmed as, Harry James Potter, the eleven year old son of Auror James Potter, in the murder of a unidentified man. It is also been revealed that Harry Potter was only ten years old when this murder took place. Since this horrifying reveal, Lucius Malfoy has been missing. His prestigious Malfoy manor, a place well known for it's socialite gatherings, has been taken over by the Ministry of Magic. Malfoy assets have allegedly been frozen and it's believed Narcissa Malfoy, the wife of Lucius Malfoy, has removed her son, eleven year old Draco Malfoy, from Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and has moved to an undisclosed location...'_

Harry put down the paper, not wanting to read anymore, especially not the large reward notice for anyone who could provide details of Lucius' whereabouts. His heart thudded in his chest. His father's attempt to disgrace him in front of the Ministry and force his return, hadn't only ruined his life but Lucius' too. Harry didn't feel as bad for Lucius as he did for Draco. He had to leave Hogwarts and hide out with his mum. Their money, something Harry knew Draco was deeply proud of, had been taken away from them. Lucius' absence was going to wreak havoc on Draco's self-esteem and although Harry had joked plenty of times that Draco needed to be knocked down a peg or two, he didn't really want Draco to be disgraced.

The mirror in his hand began to glow, the oval face blinking a bright light. Harry dropped the paper and held up the mirror. He stared at it before speaking the single word, knowing that it could only be one person waiting so impatiently to speak to him.

"Mum."

The light faded and Harry saw his mum, looking paler than usual, staring at him with red-rimmed, puffy eyes. It had only been two days since he had seen her, but she seemed to have aged, looking weary and defeated.

"Harry!" she gasped, her lips trembling. "Harry, how are you? Are you okay?"

Harry nodded, fighting to speak past the lump growing at the back of his throat.

"I'm okay, mum, I'm okay," he assured. "How are you?"

Lily pressed her lips together, trying her best not to cry.

"Don't worry, Harry, it won't be long before you'll be back home again," she said. "We're going to get you back home soon, I promise."

Harry only nodded, latching onto her hope with a fierce grip.

"Where's dad?" he asked.

"He's left for the Ministry," Lily replied. "He's going to see the Minister today, to sort something out."

"Tell him not to fight," Harry said at once, "I don't need dad locked in the cell next to mine."

Lily shook her head.

"He's not going to fight with the Minister," she said. "He's trying to get a date for your trial. The sooner it starts, the sooner you can be cleared and brought back home."

Harry's stomach churned uncomfortably at the sound of his trial. He knew, deep down, despite his mum and dad's assurances, that he wasn't going to walk out of his trial without a sentence.

"Harry," Lily called to him, "Damien's here. He wants to talk to you."

She moved the mirror, tilting it so Harry could see Damien, curled up next to her. Harry felt himself smile at the sight of his little brother.

"Hi, Damy."

Damien just stared at him with big hazel eyes. He didn't move, even when Lily nudged him, encouraging him to take the mirror.

"Talk to Harry, Damien," Lily said. "You wanted to speak to him. He's here, talk to him."

Damien shook his head, curling tighter against her side, pressing himself into the sofa.

Harry felt a cold trickle of fear drip down his back. Damien had been in the Ministry when that memory of his kill had played out. Damien had seen it, along with the rest. Harry felt like someone had hit him, physically winding him. Damien was scared. Damien was scared of _him._

"Damy," Harry choked, as he gripped the mirror tighter, bringing it closer, "Damien, it's me. It's Harry. You don't wanna talk to me?"

Damien stared at him. Very slowly, he pulled himself away from Lily. He looked to his mum for a moment before looking back at Harry.

"Harry?" he called.

"Yeah," Harry replied, "It's me."

Damien inched closer.

"I can't see you," he said. "It's all dark."

Harry stood up, standing under the torch's light.

"How about now?" he asked.

Damien moved away from Lily, reaching out to take the mirror from her. He leaned in closer, staring hard.

"Harry?" he asked again.

"It's me," Harry replied.

"Where'd you go?" Damien asked. "You ran away. Why didn't you come home?"

Harry faltered. The last time Damien remembered being with him was at the Halloween party at the Ministry. Damien didn't see Harry coming home that night or even being arrested the following morning.

"I...I can't really explain it, Damy," he said.

"I want you to come home," Damien said and Harry could see the start of tears, welling in his big hazel eyes.

"I want to come home too," Harry replied.

"Then come," Damien urged.

"I will," Harry said, pushing aside his own fears. "I'll come home, I promise, Damy."

xxx

Days trickled into weeks. Every twenty-four hours, Harry looked forward to the ten minutes he got to see and speak to his family. Harry adhered to the 'ten minutes' mirror call so meticulously, that Jackson allowed Harry to keep the mirror with him in his cell, after the first week.

James came twice a week to see him, even if the allocated time was only ten minutes. Harry overheard the guards talking about his dad and how he could possibly manage two passes every week. Apparently, getting visiting passes to Nurmengard were a difficult feat.

On the last visit, three weeks since Harry first arrived in prison, James told him the news. His first hearing had been arranged for that Friday.

Harry had nothing to keep his mind off the impending trial and so spent countless hours sitting in his dark cell, wondering what would happen. He took comfort from his dad's reassurances that the Wizengamot would never sentence someone so young. He latched onto his mum's confidence that he would be coming home soon. He laughed at Damien's inane babble about what cards he had collected and how many he would give to Harry, when he finally came home.

At last, the day came when Harry was transported out of Nurmengard and brought to the Ministry of Magic, for his first hearing. Jackson came in the morning with his usual sandwich and goblet of water. Harry ate, forcing himself to swallow past his tight throat. His nerves had gotten the best of him though and Harry promptly threw up all he had ate.

Jackson and three other guards accompanied Harry out of Nurmengard and to the Ministry, thankfully using a secluded and private entrance as opposed to the main one. Harry couldn't see them but he heard the crowd, gathered to watch the trial of an eleven year old boy.

Harry walked with the four guards, along the narrow and eerily empty corridor. His heart was beating frantically his palms sweaty and his stomach clenching every few minutes, making bile rise to his throat. He was nervous, beyond that, he was downright petrified. What if his mum and dad were wrong? What if the Wizengamot did convict him? What if they sentenced him to the Dementor's Kiss?

Harry shut his eyes, his fists clenching into tight balls. He couldn't think like that. He had to keep a cool head.

At the end of the corridor, they met a grumpy looking Auror. He gave Harry a sweeping glance before holding out his hand for the paperwork. Jackson handed it to him. The grey-haired Auror looked at the parchment and then up at Harry, with his pale blue eyes narrowed.

"Why is the prisoner not restrained as protocol?" he asked.

Jackson's mouth fell open in surprise.

"I beg your pardon?" he said. "He's only eleven years old."

"Age is of no relevance," the Auror replied. "He's being transferred from Nurmengard to the Ministry. He should be adequately restrained."

Harry's heart twisted with fear. He looked up at Jackson, wondering if he was going to cuff him. But Jackson was glaring at the Auror with great annoyance.

"I think that's inappropriate," he said. "Restraints are for hardened criminals." he gestured to Harry. "He's only a boy."

The Auror scrolled up the parchment, pocketing it.

"Yes, a boy," he repeated, "charged with murder. Perhaps you should keep that in mind."

He reached forward and grabbed Harry by the shoulder, his grip unnecessarily tight. He pulled Harry forward, away from the four guards. Harry caught the look of incensed anger on Jackson's face as Harry was hauled forward.

The Auror had taken perhaps three steps when his way was blocked by another Auror. Harry couldn't hold back his relief when he saw Remus.

"It's okay, MacKenzie," Remus said, "I'll take Harry from here."

The Auror kept his grip on Harry.

"I was asked to bring him."

"But you obviously don't want to," Remus said. His gaze rested on Harry's shoulder, particularly on Auror MacKenzie's hand. "I'll take it from here," he said, stepping forward.

The Auror let go and walked away, mumbling something under his breath. Remus nodded at Jackson and the three other Guards.

"Thank you," he said, resting a hand lightly on Harry.

Jackson nodded in return, smiling a little. He stepped back and the four of them went to wait in their room, until the hearing was over.

"You okay, Harry?" Remus asked.

Harry nodded.

"Come on," Remus said and led Harry around the corner and down another corridor.

They headed towards a room with two Aurors stationed outside. Harry recognised them as Kingsley and Sturgis, the two Aurors that had come to his house to arrest him. They nodded at Harry in greeting, which he ignored. Remus opened the door and Harry came to a sudden standstill at the threshold. Waiting for him inside the room, was not only his parents and Damien, but a small crowd of people. Sirius was standing next to Arthur Weasley. Frank and Alice Longbottom were sitting at the small table with James and Lily. But Harry's eyes focused on the two boys, sitting cross-legged on the floor with Damien.

"Ron?" Harry breathed, "Neville?"

The two boys looked up at him.

Harry was distracted by his mum, as she hurried from her seat and ran to him, pulling him into her arms. It had been over three weeks since she held Harry in her embrace.

"Oh my God," Lily breathed, cupping Harry's face in her hands. "What's happened to you, Harry? You look so...so thin."

Harry couldn't help but choke out a laugh. Truth was, he could hardly stomach any of the food in Nurmengard. The gruel aside, even the sandwiches Jackson brought him were hardly edible. He didn't tell her that though. He quietly hugged her and then his dad, holding him close.

Damien ran over, leaving Neville and Ron's side, to hug his brother. Harry returned the warm embrace, his heart swelling with joy at being with his family again.

Harry was gathered in a rather crushing hug by Sirius.

"How you doing, kiddo?" Sirius asked, looking just as tired and weary at James and Lily.

"Okay," Harry nodded, but his gaze kept darting to his friends, who were waiting patiently to meet him, with big smiles on their faces.

"What...what are you doing here?" Harry asked them.

"We're here to support you," Neville said, matter-of-factly. "What else does this look like?"

Harry stared from one boy to the other, completely blown away.

"I thought...I figured you'd...you know..." Harry gave a weak shrug, "not want to...be around me."

Ron paled a little.

"It's not right," he shook his head. "What happened wasn't your fault. You didn't do anything. _He_ made you do it."

Harry looked to Neville.

"You're our mate," Neville said, as if that simple fact was the answer to everything.

Harry felt like an unseen weight had lifted from his shoulders, making him able to stand tall again. He beamed at the two boys.

Harry spent the next twenty minutes surrounded by his friends and family. Everyone had a comforting word to say. Ron's dad, Arthur Weasley pat him on the shoulder, telling him not to worry. Neville's parents spent almost five solid minutes, listing all the reason why the Wizengamot couldn't convict him. Sirius had his own moment with him.

"You're an Auror again," Harry remarked to Sirius.

Sirius looked down at his blue uniformed robes.

"I have half a mind to resign," Sirius said. "I don't want to be a part of this system," he shook his head. "Not after the way they've treated you."

"How come you didn't visit me?" Harry asked. He didn't know why, but it bothered him, that his dad was the only one that came to Nurmengard to see him. Sirius could have come too.

"I wanted to," Sirius said, "Merlin, Harry, you have no idea how much." He shot a sideways glance to James, who was busy talking to Kingsley at the door. "But the thing is, you can only get two Nurmengard passes in any one month." Harry's eyes widened with surprise and Sirius nodded. "James used his two passes the first week he came to see you. Arthur and I applied for our passes and then transferred them to James, so he could visit you." He smiled sadly. "James wouldn't survive without seeing you."

Harry looked around at his dad, who had finished his conversation with Kingsley. With a final nod, James turned around, meeting Harry's eyes. James' face was taut with tension, worry clouded in his eyes.

"It's time," he said, looking at Harry. "We have to go."

xxx

Harry's walk down to the courtroom would have been excruciatingly painful, if he didn't have his family by his side. They walked as one big group, Harry in the middle, with his mum, dad and brother next to him. Ron and Neville were on his other side. Frank, Alice, Arthur, Sirius and Remus joined Kingsley and Sturgis as the guarding Aurors and flanked the group from all corners.

As soon as Harry stepped out of the elevators, he saw the atrium was filled with people. There were so many people, there was only a thin path left for Harry to walk to reach the courtroom. Camera's flashed at him as he walked by. Aurors kept the paparazzi as back as they could. Questions were being shouted at Harry from all over, none of then intelligible.

Harry felt his dad's hand squeeze his.

"Just relax, Harry," he murmured to him. "Try and ignore them."

Harry focused on the great big double doors in front of him; the entrance to the courtroom. He kept his gaze on the floor, making an effort not to glance around at all the faces staring at him.

Harry didn't know what it was that made him look over. He spotted the man in the crowd, standing quietly at the back. As soon as their eyes met, the man smiled, his eyes glinting. Harry slowed down, as recognition kicked in. The man was a Death Eater. Harry had spied on him in his father's chambers during Death Eater meetings. He saw the Death Eater's arm extend out and even though he couldn't see the man's hand, he knew instantly what he would be holding.

"Dad!" Harry screamed and pulled James down, ducking low, taking Damien and Lily with him.

It was just in time, as a flash of light blazed overhead. All at once, from all corners of the atrium, beams of light exploded, racing high to the ceiling. A dark cloud formed, taking the shape of a skull. The mouth opened and a smoky snake slithered out.

In the space of a heartbeat, pandemonium broke out.

Screams filled the air at the sight of the Dark Mark. The crowd tried to flee, running past the Aurors, heading to the exits. The crowd of wizards and witches ran into Harry, tearing his group apart. Harry lost hold of his dad's hand, as he was pushed and pulled, swept along by the swarm of people.

"Dad!" Harry cried out. "Mum!"

"Harry!"

Harry could hear his name echoed all around. His dad, mum, Sirius, Ron, Damy everyone was calling out to him. Flashes of green in the atrium only increased the panic. People were trampling over each other in their hurry to get out. Harry tried to plant his feet on the ground, to fight against the crowd of people, so he could get back to his family. He sought out more and more Death Eaters in the crowd. They were the ones scaring the rest, firing killing curses everywhere. It only fuelled Harry's efforts to get back to his family.

Just to his left, Harry saw Damien being jostled around by the fleeing public. Damien was crying, no sign of James, Lily or even Sirius anywhere. Ron had ended up in the opposite corner, Neville was nowhere to be seen. Damien was pushed to the ground by a running woman, who didn't stop to help the little boy back up. As Harry watched, people began trampling over Damien, too lost in their terror to see they were stepping on a screaming child.

"DAMY!" Harry yelled, "NO!"

A mighty burst of power came from Harry, throwing the surrounding people a foot in the air. Harry found the ground under his feet and he ran, pushing and shoving others out of his path. He managed to get to Damien, who had curled himself tightly into a ball, whimpering and sobbing.

"Damien! Oh God! You okay?" Harry pulled his brother into his arms, holding him, protecting him.

Harry saw more wizards running blindly towards them, falling over each other. With a furious snarl, Harry swiped his hand and a powerful blast knocked the approaching group onto their backs, before they could trample over him and Damien.

"Come on, Damy!" Harry pulled at him. "We've got to get up."

Harry managed to get Damien half way up to his feet, when two hands grabbed him by his neck. Harry was pulled away, almost violently, from Damien.

"What do you think you're doing!" a panicked voice screamed at him.

Harry saw it was MacKenzie; the sour faced Auror that he had met upon arriving at the Ministry.

"My brother-" Harry turned to Damien, who by now had Neville by his side.

"Shut up!" the Auror snapped. He began pulling Harry away, his bruising grip on Harry's arm.

"Wait!" Harry resisted, "my brother, I need-"

"I said, shut up!" The Auror was trembling. Fear shone in his eyes and his wand shook in his hand.

"Let go of me!" Harry yelled, twisting his arm out of the man's grip.

"No, you don't!" MacKenzie yelled, lunging to grab Harry by the collar. "I won't have you attacking anyone else!"

"I wasn't attacking anyone!" Harry fought back.

When Harry pushed the man back, trying to free himself, the Auror lost it. Furious and driven to almost delirium with panic, the Auror backhanded Harry, throwing him to the ground. Harry's head smacked off the floor, making him groan.

"Enough!" MacKenzie screamed, "You hear me? That's enough!"

Harry felt the pain in his head sharpen. He pulled himself onto his hands and knees and turned around to sit up. He stilled. His green eyes widened with horror, staring past MacKenzie's shoulder. Frowning, MacKenzie turned, following Harry's wide-eyed stare.

Standing behind him, looking furious, was Lord Voldemort.

The chaos of the atrium came to a sudden standstill at the sight of the Dark Lord. Ruby red eyes met the petrified eyes of the Auror MacKenzie. Voldemort looked down at Harry, his gaze burning at Harry's reddened cheek. He looked back at MacKenzie, before a cruel smile lifted his lips up.

"Big mistake," he hissed.

His wand was pressed against the Auror's chest in the blink of an eye. The killing curse thundered out of the wand and pierced through the man, throwing him backwards. Terror-stricken gasps echoed all around Harry, who pushed himself to the side, just as the dead body of the Auror hit the floor. Trembling, Harry looked up at Voldemort, who lowered his wand and met his eyes. The Dark Lord smiled, tilting his head to the side.

"Why the look of surprise, Harry?" he asked. "You didn't think I would actually let you stand trial, did you?"

Harry stared at him. Voldemort reached down and grabbed Harry by his arm, pulling him clear off the ground. It was perhaps the sight of Lord Voldemort, putting his hands on Harry, that snapped James out of his shock.

"No!" he yelled and ran forward, wand in hand.

Voldemort looked up and smirked. Harry turned too, wide green eyes, filled with disbelief and shock, met James'.

"Dad?" Harry called out. "Dad!"

Before James or anyone else could point a wand at Lord Voldemort, he was gone, taking Harry with him.

James came to a stop, staring wide-eyed at the empty space, with Harry's cry still lingering in the air.


	18. Loss

**Disclaimer** I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

**Chapter Eighteen**

A dull throbbing headache, was the first thing Harry registered when he awoke from a groggy sleep. Moving his hand to his forehead, he felt a slight bump under his fingers. Harry forced his eyes open, blinking to clear his vision. A strangely familiar ceiling met his eyes, confusing him at first, before filling him with complete horror.

Harry shot up in bed, his breathing quickening as he took in the sight of his room, his _old_ room, in Riddle manor. The memory of what happened while he was making his way to stand trial, flashed through his mind. Voldemort had come to the Ministry. He had come to take him away. The last thing Harry remembered, was being forced into a side-along disapparation. He didn't know what happened after that, how he became unconscious, or how he ended up back in this room.

Harry scrambled out of the bed and darted towards the door, fearing it would be locked. He may not need his wand to unlock many things, but Voldemort's locks wouldn't open even _with_ a wand. He twisted the handle in panic and, to his immense surprise, it clicked open. Harry threw open the door and ran out, only to come face to face with Bella.

Both stopped mid-step, staring at the other with twin looks of surprise. In Bella's hands, was a tray, laden with both food and healing potions.

"Harry," she started, her tone placating. "Just wait, don't-"

Harry ran, darting around her, racing down the narrow corridor.

"Harry! Harry, wait!" Bella called behind her, throwing down the tray and chasing after him.

Harry took the stairs two at a time, almost tripping in his haste. Bella's shouts echoed behind him, but Harry didn't stop. He reached the exit portrait and cried out the password. The door opened and Harry bolted forwards, only to come to a sudden stop. Lord Voldemort was waiting for him, standing alone in the foyer, with his hands tucked behind him.

Harry stared at him, breathing hard. Beads of perspiration had already gathered on Harry's forehead, his eyes shadowed with fear. Bella arrived behind him, but she too came to a stop, at the sight of the Dark Lord.

Voldemort glanced at Bella once before returning his red-eyed gaze to Harry.

"Go back to your room, Harry," he instructed.

Harry took a step back but weakly shook his head.

"Let me go," he said.

"You need to rest," Voldemort continued, acting as if he never heard Harry.

"Just...just let me go," Harry said, his voice cracking.

"You should change," Voldemort continued, looking Harry up and down. "Take a bath and wear your own clothes,"

"I want to go home!" Harry screamed.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed, his anger resonating in Harry's scar.

"You _are_ home, Harry," he said each word carefully, driving it home.

Harry shook his head, but backed up a step.

"Please," Harry's voice broke, "just let me go. Let me go back."

Voldemort smiled, tilting his head to the side.

"Back?" he asked. "Back to what? Back to prison? To the trial?" he walked towards him. "You still don't see it," he said. "Harry, you have no future if you go back. The Ministry will throw you back in prison and make you stand trial. They will sentence you to the Kiss."

Harry was shaking his head, moving back in answer to every step Voldemort took to get closer.

"You are safer here, with me," Voldemort continued. "You're back where you belong; at my side."

Harry was in tears, his sobs caught somewhere in his chest, fighting to get out. He shook his head at Voldemort again.

"You don't...don't have to do this," he said. "Please...don't."

Voldemort laughed and finally pulled his hands away, revealing his wand in hand.

"Nothing gets by you, does it, Harry?" he said. "I raised you right, after all."

"No," Harry backed up against Bella, who immediately grabbed him by the arms. "NO!" Harry screamed, struggling wildly, "Bella, please! No!"

"Calm down, Harry," Bella urged in his ear. "It's for the best."

"She's right," Voldemort said, walking up to stand before Harry. "This really is for the best."

"Please," Harry pleaded. "Don't take my memories, please."

"You brought this onto yourself," Voldemort told him. "I gave you the chance to come back on your own. If you had, I would've let you keep all your memories." He ran a hand down Harry's face, caressing softly, ignoring Harry's flinch and fight to move away. "I should have known you were too stubborn to give in. Now, I have no choice but to memory charm you." He smiled at Harry's chocked sob. "You won't remember what's happened these past few months. It'll be as if you never left."

Harry pulled his face away from Voldemort's hand, his eyes shining with angry tears.

"You can take my memory," he panted, "but you can't take the memory of _every_ person I've met outside these walls!"

"No," Voldemort smiled, "but I can kill them all."

Harry's mouth dropped open, his eyes widening with fear. He shook his head.

"You...you can't," he struggled against Bella. "You can't kill all of them. Someone, somewhere will survive, they'll tell me the truth and I'll know I'm under a memory charm." He ignored the burn in his scar and held the fierce scarlet gaze. "But, if you let me keep my memories and swear not to hurt my family, I'll stay with you."

Voldemort looked taken aback.

"It's what you wanted, right?" Harry went on, his nervousness and panic evident in his voice, "for me to choose you? Okay. I choose you," Harry said. "I'll stay with you, I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt them and don't take my memories." He paused as the mental image of his dad, his mum and Damy flashed through his mind. " Don't make me forget them."

Voldemort didn't say anything for long minutes. He simply stood there, staring at Harry, at the tearful eleven year old boy. A slow smirk spread over his face.

"Seems like a good offer," he said. "I would take it, if it wasn't for one thing." He smiled before grabbing Harry's face roughly, pulling it up to look Harry in the eyes. "You defied me," he whispered. "You must be punished for that, and what better punishment than for you to be denied the thing you want the most."

Harry's dilated green eyes stared at Voldemort.

"You will forget ever meeting that rat, Pettigrew!" Voldemort hissed. "You will forget leaving me," his grip tightened, his fingers digging into Harry's face. "You will forget every moment you spent with that Blood Traitor and Mudblood! You will forget them all!" he glowered. "And once your pathetic parents grow tired of looking for you, when they come to the cusp of giving up hope, you will go to them." Voldemort let go of Harry. "You will knock at their door and when they come to answer, you'll point your wand at their heads and take their life."

Harry's ability to breathe ceased momentarily, as horror settled deep within him.

"You will kill your parents, your family," Voldemort stated, "and you will do so happily, at my command." Voldemort smiled. "And that, my son, will be your punishment."

He stepped back and extended his wand aiming at Harry's head.

"NO!" Harry fought Bella's hold, struggling wildly. "NO!"

He threw back his head, catching Bella's chin. With a grunt of pain, her hold loosened, just enough for Harry to wrench himself away. He didn't get far though. A well aimed hex and Harry fell to the floor, smacking his head on the marble ground. Dizzy and in pain, Harry turned onto his back, pushing himself away as Voldemort stepped closer.

"No, don't," Harry groaned, "please, no!"

Voldemort ignored him and took aim.

"Father."

Voldemort halted.

"Please," Harry begged. "Don't. I'll...I'll do anything, please!"

Voldemort's hand shook, his wand shifted, just a bare fraction before Voldemort strengthened his resolve. He aimed at Harry's head and started the incantation for the memory charm. The words were barely out of his mouth, when he abruptly stopped. He turned his head away from Harry, turning back to the doors, frowning. At first, Harry was confused, before he heard it too. Noises, coming from outside. The distant cry of hexes, the faint whoosh of spells cutting through the air and the dull thud of bodies hitting the ground; the Death Eaters outside, had been ambushed.

Harry stared at the closed doors, along with a stunned Voldemort and Bella as the sound of numerous footsteps and intangible voices drew nearer. Voldemort turned, his blazing gaze pinning Harry to the spot. Fear, anew surged within Harry at that look and he shook his head, answering the question that went unasked. However Riddle manor was discovered, whatever it was that brought Aurors to it's doorstep, it had nothing to do with Harry.

It was then, as Voldemort and Bella's confused stares were fixed on him, that Harry saw the faint glow blinking at his chest. Confused, Harry reached for his pocket and pulled out the hand mirror, the one his dad had left in Nurmengard. Harry had started carrying the mirror around with him, feeling it's comfort against his chest, taking it out once in the day to talk to his mum and brother. He had completely forgotten the thing was still on him.

Slowly, Harry looked up, meeting Voldemort's surprised stare. Voldemort didn't speak, he didn't move. He simply stood, his wand in hand, staring at Harry. His gaze moved to the mirror in his hand and he smirked.

"A tracking charm," he said. "Well played, Harry."

Harry felt like someone had doused him with ice cold water. He shook his head.

"I didn't do anything," he objected. "This is your doing."

It was true. Harry never asked for Voldemort to come to the Ministry and take him away. Voldemort had brought him, and the mirror, to Riddle manor on his own.

The doors behind them swung open and a crowd of blue robed Aurors spilled inside. Wands were pointed at Voldemort and Bella, who stood with her own wand clutched but not aimed. She was looking at the Dark Lord, waiting for his command, but Voldemort didn't say a word.

"Harry!"

James' cry pulled Harry's stare away from Voldemort. He saw his dad running towards him, past the crowd of Auror, looking pale and terrified. James rushed to Harry's side and dropped to the ground, gathering Harry in his arms. Harry quickly held onto him, trembling in his dad's embrace.

Voldemort stood barely a foot away, staring at them. James turned his head and met Voldemort's gaze. The Aurors around Voldemort were yelling at him to drop his wand, but it seemed he couldn't hear them. He was too busy staring at Harry, nestled in James' embrace. He smiled, while his eyes glinted in a way that made a shiver run down Harry's spine. The wand slipped out of Voldemort's fingers and hit the floor.

Harry gaped at him in shock. Without a word, Voldemort turned and walked towards the door, the Aurors surrounding him, looking completely taken aback by the Dark Lord's surrender. Bella followed her master's example and dropped her wand too, turning to walk away with the Aurors.

Harry watched them go in disbelief. At the door, Voldemort paused, turning one last time to look at Harry. A feeling of despair rose inside Harry. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, to voice that he didn't lead the Aurors here, that he didn't know the mirror's partner would find it's twin and track it's location. He wanted to tell him that he didn't betray him, he had kept all his secrets. But he couldn't find his voice in time and Voldemort turned away, walking out of Riddle manor for good.

xxx

After Voldemort and his Death Eaters were taken by the Aurors, straight to Azkaban, James took Harry back to the Ministry. Harry sat in a room, with his mum on one side and his dad on the other. Damien was curled up next to him, sharing the blanket James had draped over Harry the moment he got him out of Riddle Manor. Sirius and Remus were in the room, but no one spoke. All eyes were on Harry, but his gaze was fixed to the floor, not seeing, not blinking.

A knock on the door drew everyone's attention. It opened and Arthur entered, with Frank and Alice.

"It's done," Frank said, speaking to James. "The Minister's issued the orders."

"When's it happening?" James asked.

"Within the hour," Frank replied. "The Dementors are ready."

Harry tried, he tried really hard to hold back, but his emotions overwhelmed him. He knew what they were talking about. The Minister had sealed the fate of Voldemort and his Death Eaters; Dementors were going to administer the Kiss.

Tears blurred his vision and Harry squeezed his eyes shut, his face crumpled in grief, as he brought up both hands to shield his face. He knew no one here would understand; they would question his sorrow, argue that Voldemort deserved this fate. Harry knew that; to some extent agreed with it, but he couldn't stop himself from mourning the loss of the man he called _father_ for most of his life.

Lily wrapped her arms around Harry, holding him close.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she whispered softly in his ear, which made him cry harder. He could feel Damien press into his back, wrapping his small arms around him.

"Don't worry, Harry," he called. "We're going home soon." he assured, mistaking the reason for Harry's tears.

James looked over at him, his eyes clouding with pain at the sight of his son's grief. He walked over to kneel before Harry, caressing his hair as he wept in Lily's arms. Harry pulled his hands away, sniffing, wiping his cheeks dry with the back of his hands. James hugged him, holding him close.

Another knock sounded on the door, pulling James and Harry back. James' eyes widened in surprise. Jackson looked guilt-ridden as he stood at the door, his fellow guards behind him. He looked from Harry's tear-stained face to James' rapidly paling one and shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he said, stepping inside. "I have no choice." He extended a hand towards Harry.

Harry backed away from him, moaning in panic and turned to Lily's fierce embrace, as she pulled him to her chest.

"No!" she yelled.

James shot to his feet, just as Remus and Sirius came to his side, blocking Jackson from Harry.

"Are you out of your mind?" Sirius yelled.

"You're not taking Harry back to prison," Remus said.

"I'm sorry," Jackson repeated. "It's the Minister's orders. He wants Harry back in Nurmengard to wait for another trial date."

"No," James vehemently argued. "Harry's not going back. The only place he's going is, _home!_"

"Then I suggest to take it up with the Minister," Jackson said, bringing out his wand. "Because I'm bound by duty to do as he asks."

He moved forward, towards Harry but was shoved back by Sirius.

"Don't you dare," Sirius snarled. "Touch him and I'll break your hand!"

"Auror Black, move out of the way," the guard behind Jackson warned, taking out his wand.

Damien let out a whimper and scrambled to Lily's side, clutching onto her. Lily didn't let go of Harry.

"Just wait a minute!" James called, "Sirius, wait," he pulled him back as Sirius brought out his wand. "Everyone, please, just wait. Let me go and speak to the Minister-"

"You can speak to him in your own time," Jackson said. "We have to take him now."

Harry gripped onto Lily. The idea of going back to the claustrophobic, dark cell was making bile rise in his throat. He didn't want to go back. He wanted to stay here, with his parents and brother. He couldn't face being alone, not today.

Jackson's second attempt to get past Sirius ended with Sirius' fist in his face. The guards reacted, firing their spells, which James and Remus blocked, only to retaliate with their own. Lily dove out of the away, taking Harry and Damien with her. Frank, Alice and Arthur got involved, trying to stop both their friends and the guards.

The entire room shook suddenly, making everyone stop mid-spell. All eyes turned to the door to see Dumbledore's tall figure at the door.

"Gentleman," he called, lowering his wand. "Surely there is no need to point your wands at each other."

"What choice do we have?" Jackson snarled, "when they won't let us do our job!"

"You're not taking Harry back to Nurmengard!" James spat.

"I don't _want_ to take him!" Jackson yelled. "You think I want to drag him back to prison?" he asked, pointing to Harry. "This isn't my choice. I'm only following orders!"

"Well then," Dumbledore stepped forward, pulling out a scrolled parchment from his pocket. "Here are your new set of orders."

Jackson eyed the scroll, before taking it from him and unfurling it. He read the parchment quickly, a look of relief slowly filling his face. He looked up at Dumbledore and smiled, nodding his head.

"Thank you," he said, passing the scroll to his colleagues.

He turned to James, his expression softer now. His gaze went to Harry and he nodded at him.

"Good luck, Harry," he said, "I hope to never see you again." He smiled before turning and walking out of the room. The other guards followed after him, taking the parchment.

James turned to Dumbledore.

"What did you do?" he asked. "What was on that parchment?"

"Harry's release orders," Dumbledore replied. "I've just secured Harry's bail. The trial won't be until January, and until then, Harry can stay at home."

xxx

As soon as Harry stepped past the threshold of Godric's Hollow, all he wanted to do was curl up and sleep. Such was his drained condition though, he didn't have the energy to speak up and say what he wanted, so when Lily led him into the living room, he silently went with her.

Harry sat down on the sofa, closing his eyes, taking a moment to relish the feeling of being back home. A part of him was still in disbelief. The Minister had let him come home. He still had a trial to face, but that wasn't until January. He wasn't going to Nurmengard ever again. He pushed all thoughts about his trial out of his mind. He didn't want to think about that, not yet. He didn't want to contemplate serving a possible sentence in Azkaban. For now, he just wanted to settle comfortably in his home, with his parents and brother by his side.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop himself from thinking about Voldemort. They must have administered the Kiss by now. His heart jolted horribly at the realisation. His father, Bella, they were gone, leaving behind empty shells. He rubbed at his head, tilting it back, covering his eyes again. He couldn't wrap his head around it. His father was...gone. Bella...gone.

Lily came over to sit next to Harry. She pulled Harry's hands away before wiping his tears. Wordlessly, Harry moved to lie in her lap, pulling his feet up onto the sofa. He closed his eyes and lay still, letting his mum caress his hair.

"You should eat something," Lily said quietly. "You must be hungry."

Harry shook his head a fraction.

"I just wanna sleep, mum," he said, quietly. "I just...I wanna sleep."

Lily ran her hand through Harry's hair, lulling him to relax and fall into an easy sleep. Damien kicked off his shoes and curled up on Lily's other side. Lily sat with her two sons, trying her best to keep back her happy tears. Her family was whole again.

James walked in, but paused at the sight, a smile breaking across his face. He knelt before Lily, caressing Harry's cheek.

"You want to go upstairs to rest?" he asked.

Harry opened his sleepy eyes and shook his head a fraction.

"Can I stay here?"

James smiled.

"Of course you can," he said.

James got up and stepped back. He was about to lift up a dozing Damien when the floo lit up a bright green. Remus appeared, stepping out of the fireplace. He took in the sight of Lily with her two sons and smiled.

"Moony?" James greeted. He frowned at the worry lines on his friend's brow. "Everything okay?"

Remus stared at Harry, who had opened his eyes and was staring at him, quite obviously fighting sleep. Remus nodded.

"Fine," he looked over at James. "Just need a quick word with you."

Both men went into the kitchen.

"What is it?" James asked. "Something wrong?"

After a day like this, James hated asking the question, but Remus' expression could mean nothing else. Remus took in a breath.

"James," he started, before meeting his eyes. "He escaped."

"What?" James exclaimed. "How?"

"He was cooperating with the guards," Remus started, "making them think he wasn't going to fight back, but before they could take him into Azkaban, he turned on them. He took his Death Eaters and left."

James ran a hand through his hair.

"How could they let him slip out of their hands like that?"

"Voldemort killed the entire three teams escorting him," Remus said. "James, you need to step up security. Have your wards strengthened," he looked out the door, at Harry. "You know he's going to come for Harry again."

James glared at Remus. He knew that. He didn't want to hear it.

"My wards are secure," he said. "Voldemort can't come anywhere near Godric's Hollow."

"You have to tell, Harry," Remus said. "He needs to know Voldemort is still out there."

James nodded unhappily, sighing out an agitated breath.

"I know," he said. "I will." He turned to look at Harry, to see his eyes were closed again, head still resting in Lily's lap. "But tomorrow. Tonight, I just want him to sleep," James said. "He's been through so much today, so much these past weeks." He let out a breath. "I'll tell him tomorrow, for tonight, I just want him to sleep peacefully."

xxx


	19. The Price to Pay

**Disclaimer** I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

Sorry for the long, _long_ delay. I was caught up with Real Life responsibilities. Updating schedule should be back to fairly regular now :)

Note to Lena and Vicky – Lena, for the love of God, don't listen to any depressing music when reading this chappie, okay? Vicky...just...just remember there's one more chapter after this. Okay? Keep telling yourself that ;)

Enjoy everyone!

**Chapter Nineteen**

"It's official," James said, pulling back from the window. "It's definitely going to be a white Christmas."

Across the room, Lily looked up from her stack of Christmas letters and smiled, before taking another sip of her tea.

"At least the boys will be happy," she said. "They've got plans to build a ten foot snowman."

James shook his head, grinning in amusement. Sipping from his mug, he walked towards her. As he passed the decorated tree in the corner, he paused to stare at it. He smiled at the memory of how carefree and happy Harry had been, taking part in the Potter family tradition of setting up the Christmas tree. He had joked and played around with Damy, teasing him into a competition of who could tinsel bomb the branches the fastest.

It had taken almost two full weeks but slowly, Harry was recovering from the trauma he had suffered; imprisoned in Nurmengard, almost standing trial, kidnapped by Voldemort, again. James closed his eyes, pushing back the memory of how hollow and broken Harry had been the night he returned to Godric's Hollow, believing Voldemort had been Kissed by the Dementors of Azkaban. He tried even harder not to recollect the memory of the following morning, when Harry found out about Voldemort's escape.

"James?"

Lily's concerned voice made him look up. He offered her a tight smile and shook his head. Lily pursed her lips. James didn't have to say it. She could read his thoughts from his expression alone.

"Does it really matter?" she asked. "Isn't it enough that Harry's happy?"

"I want Harry to be happy." James assured. "I just can't accept the _reason_ he's happy."

Lily looked away, shifting in discomfort. She put down her cup.

"Harry's reaction is understandable-"

"Is it?" James asked.

"James," she started but he only shook his head, holding out a hand to quieten her.

"Don't lie to yourself, Lily," he said. "You can't tell me you're okay with Harry's relief over that...that monster's freedom!"

"Harry's not happy about that," Lily defended. "You know as well as I do how scared Harry is. His restless nights aren't a secret to anyone in this house." She took in a breath, trying to stay calm. "But Harry never wanted..._him_ to be Kissed. That's understandable."

"Not to me," James bit back.

"Don't be like that, James-" Lily was interrupted as green flames erupted in her fireplace. Not a moment later, Sirius stepped past the hearth and into the living room, shaking his long hair out of his eyes.

"Morning Potters!" he greeted warmly.

"Sirius, hi," Lily replied, sending James a sharp look, warning him not to continue their conversation in front of Sirius. It wasn't needed. James had no intentions of revealing his unease over Harry's actions in front of anyone, not even his best friend.

"How are you, Padfoot?" he asked instead, doing his best to smile at him.

"Can't complain," Sirius replied, walking over to Lily, only to steal her mug of tea. "Well, I can but I won't." He chuckled before draining the leftover tea in a single gulp.

"Please, sit, have some tea," Lily joked before getting up to put on the kettle.

"Don't mind if I do," Sirius replied, happily taking her seat.

"You're looking chirpier than usual," James said, sitting down across from him.

"Chirpier?" Sirius pulled a face, wrinkling his nose. "I don't know about that but I am ecstatically happy."

"Oh?" James smiled, bringing up his mug to take a sip. "And why's that?"

"Narcissa's gone."

James paused and looked up at Sirius.

"Gone? Where?"

"Marco's taken her in," Sirius replied, wearing a grin.

"Her brother?" James asked. "When did this happen?"

"I just found out this morning," Sirius said. "She's taken her son and moved away. It's been quite difficult for her, what with the Ministry freezing their assets and leaving her practically penniless."

"And this makes you happy because?" James asked.

Sirius leaned forward in his seat, blue eyes gleaming.

"Don't you get it?" he asked. "She's finally done it. She's left that _bastard._"

James sat back in surprise.

"It took years, but Cissy finally saw the light," Sirius grinned. "Marco's the only one with his head screwed on straight out of that lot. He'll keep Cissy away from Malfoy for good."

"You sure about that?" James asked.

"Oh yeah." Sirius nodded. "Malfoy won't be seeing his wife or kid again. He's lost his family, for good. " He smirked and the blue of his eyes glinted with adulterated hatred. "Sweet justice, don't you think?" he asked. "He's lost his money and now his family. He's finally getting punished for his crimes."

James smiled a small smile.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "It's a start."

xxx

Christmas came on a bright, albeit frosty cold morning. Harry woke up with an excited Damien by his bedside.

"Hurry up, Harry!" He practically bounced on the spot. "Wake up. It's Christmas!"

"How come you're up before me?" Harry asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Come on! Come on!" Damien tugged at Harry's arm. "We've got presents!"

"Oh," Harry smirked. "That's why."

"_Come_ on!" Damien pulled Harry out of his bed before racing to the door.

Harry got up and was about to pull himself out of bed, when he noticed something peculiar sitting on his bedside drawer. It was the bronze talisman given to him by the Gypsy. Harry stared at it with surprise. The last time he had seen that thing, it was in his cell. He was sure he had left it there. Reaching over, Harry picked it up. How did it find it's way back to him? Harry was sure there wasn't a spell in the world that could do what this coin was doing. How was it following him?

"Harry!" Damien's call from halfway down the stairs interrupted his thoughts.

"Coming, Damy," Harry called back distractedly, still staring at the coin. "I'm coming."

Harry carried the coin to his dresser. He pulled open the drawer, threw it in and slammed the drawer shut.

"Harry!"

"Alright, alright, I'm coming!" Harry yelled back and turned to go downstairs.

xxx

As soon as Harry and Damien walked into the living room, they saw a large pile of colourfully wrapped up presents under the tree. By the time James and Lily walked into the living room, Harry and Damien were almost lost in paper wrappings.

"It was all Harry's idea." Damien pointed a finger at Harry, who was surrounded by incriminating evidence of unwrapped presents and torn paper and ribbons.

"What?" Harry narrowed his eyes. "He dragged me out of bed for this."

"It's alright." James laughed. "It's Christmas. Sneaking downstairs at the crack of dawn to open presents is the best part."

The majority of the morning was spent going through gift after gift, with Harry marvelling at how many presents his parents managed to stuff under the tree. After the present opening ceremony was over, Lily prepared breakfast while the boys washed up. When they came to the table, they weren't surprised in the least to see Sirius had joined them. Harry could hardly get through his breakfast, he was laughing so hard at Sirius and James' stories of past Christmas wonders.

"You did not!" Lily gasped, her eyes wide and fixed on her husband.

"Afraid I did," James replied, ducking his head in mocked shame.

"James Potter!" Lily admonished. "You charmed the turkey to run around the table?"

Damien and Harry were doubled over in fits of laughter.

"I thought it would be funny." James offered.

"And it was," Sirius nodded. "Shame Mrs Potter didn't think the same."

"Your poor mother," Lily tutted, shaking her head. She looked over at her two boys. "I hope you aren't getting any ideas." She warned. "If any of my food starts dancing tonight, I will not be impressed."

"I don't know how to do the spell," Damien said with a shake of his head.

Harry chose to remain silent. He knew the spell. It was most probably a re-animation spell, fairly basic and straight forward. He could probably do it with his eyes closed. Problem was; he didn't have his wand. His heart jolted at the thought of his eleven inches, holly and phoenix feathered wand, locked up somewhere in the Ministry. It was a condition of his bail, to surrender his wand to the Ministry. He wasn't going to see it again, not unless he was acquitted. He pushed all thoughts of his impending trial from his mind. He didn't want to think about that, not today at least.

xxx

The day went on to be very enjoyable. A lot of people came to Godric's Hollow, to wish the Potter family a happy Christmas. First it was Remus. Then Neville and his parents stopped by. Late on in the afternoon, the entire Weasley clan arrived. Harry had a great time with Ron and his brothers. The twins in particular were rather amusing.

After a splendid dinner, which both Molly and Lily prepared, the Weasley family took their leave. Remus left shortly after. As James sat next to Lily, eavesdropping on her traditional Christmas phone call to her sister, Harry sat on the sofa, staring aimlessly ahead. Damien was more than happy sitting before the fire, playing with his newly acquired gifts.

"A Galleon for your thoughts?"

Harry looked up to see a smiling Sirius, a goblet in his hand. Harry smiled back tiredly.

"Nothing worth a Galleon," he assured.

Sirius sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulders.

"Scored well today," he nodded at the small mountain of Harry's presents, still sitting to one side of the tree.

Harry smiled back, leaning into the embrace, his head resting on Sirius' shoulder.

"Yeah," he agreed sleepily.

"You've been rather quiet today," Sirius said. "Anything on your mind, champ?"

Harry didn't reply right away.

"I was just...thinkin'," he started. "About next month...my trial."

Sirius' hand tightened around him.

"Don't think about that," he said, draining his drink. "We'll leap across that bridge when we come to it."

"We are going to come to it," Harry said. "I'm just not sure I have what it takes to cross it."

Sirius shifted, taking his support away so Harry had to sit up and look at him.

"Harry?" he frowned. "What do you have to worry about? You have all of us here. We're not going to let anything happen to you."

"I know," Harry said. "It's just..." He ducked his head. "I know what everyone wants from me. I know exactly what I need to do, to escape a prison sentence." He met Sirius' shocked blue eyes. "But I can't do it. I can't rat on him."

Sirius put down his goblet, turning fully so he was facing Harry.

"Why the hell not?" he asked, lines of anger creasing his brow. "Good God, Harry. This _bastard_ ruined your life! He rat _you_ out, to a room full of Aurors and the Minister of Magic himself! He tried to obliviate you. He's done everything under the sun to try and destroy you."

"I know," Harry replied quietly. "But I'm not like him. I can't do to him what he tried to do to me." He paused to take in a breath, reaching up to scratch his forehead, his fingers rubbing along the jagged scar. "I don't know how to explain it. I don't ever want to see him again. I don't want to even think about him. I don't want anything to do with him." He looked up at Sirius. "But I don't want him destroyed either. And most of all, I want him to know that."

"Harry," Sirius started, shaking his head.

"You didn't see him," Harry cut across him, "when the Aurors came into Riddle manor. You were there Sirius, but you didn't see his face. He thinks..." Harry paused, swallowing hard. The green of his eyes glinted and Sirius tensed, seeing the pain in them. "I didn't do anything." Harry continued. "I didn't know the mirror could be tracked. I forgot the thing was still in my pocket. But he...he thinks that I...that I did it on purpose. He thinks I tricked him."

"Who cares?" Sirius said. "He deserves to be tricked. Voldemort deserves no loyalty, Harry. He's not worth it."

Harry looked away.

"I know," he admitted in a strained whisper.

"Then why are you giving him yours?"

Harry looked up at him. It was a surprise to Harry to find he didn't have an answer.

"That day, when we were tracking the mirror," Sirius continued. "We could hear you. When you were talking with...with him. We could hear you from the mirror."

Harry's eyes widened.

"You...you heard us?" He looked over to his dad, who was still with Lily, while she spoke on the telephone. "Did...did dad hear too?" he asked.

Sirius nodded.

"We heard every word." He revealed. "How he threatened you. How he tortured you. What he told you he would do after obliviating you." He tilted his head to the side, studying the pale looking boy before him. "It only serves to confuse us further, seeing you refuse to turn against him, after all that."

Harry met his eyes.

"He was angry."

"Are you saying he wouldn't have kept his word?"

Harry looked away, not giving an answer.

"I meant to ask you something," Sirius chanced a quick look around the room, but Damy, James and Lily were still oblivious to their discussion. "You... you offered to stay with him?"

"I did."

"Were you just buying yourself time, or...or was that for real?"

Harry took a minute to answer.

"It was for real."

Sirius looked taken aback.

"After everything, you would have stayed with him willingly?"

"If he left my family alone, yeah, I would have," Harry replied, a note of irritation in his tone.

"Harry," Sirius shook his head. "How could you think of sacrificing yourself like that?"

"Sacrifice is a big word," Harry replied. "I was only doing what I had to, to keep my family safe." His gaze went across the room, to his parents before settling on Damien. "You said it yourself once; some things are worth risking everything for."

Sirius followed Harry's gaze. He choked back a gasp and turned to look at Harry.

"I never meant you had to risk _yourself."_ He was quick to say. "It's not up to you to keep anyone safe. That's our job-"

"No, it's not," Harry interrupted. "It's not, if I can help it. If I can protect my family, I'll do whatever I have to. If that means I have to lose, then so be it."

"Harry," Sirius breathed, reaching out to hold onto Harry's arm. "You're scaring me."

Harry fell into silence, biting back his words. He held Sirius' wide blue-eyed stare but neither of them could find anything to say.

xxx

Sirius left shortly afterwards, whispering a small, 'we'll talk later' in Harry's ear before he walked into the floo. Lily started tidying up but seemed preoccupied. Harry could see the worry lines on her brow as she went from one corner of the room to the other, picking things up. James, Harry noted, was watching her with mounting concern. Finally he got up and walked over to her, taking the bin bag from her hand.

"Go," he urged in a quiet voice.

Lily shook her head, looking down.

"She's got a real nerve," she said, equally quiet.

"She does," James agreed, "but you're clearly affected by what she said. Go and see her." Lily cast a look around at the room, but James spoke before she could. "Go, I'll finish tidying here."

"Harry and Damy need their baths," Lily started.

"I'll get them washed and put to bed," James replied. "You're not going to sleep tonight, unless you clear up things with your sister."

"She does this on purpose," Lily said. "Every year, she has to do something to upset me."

"Though this time, she might be right," James said.

Lily looked up at him with an open mouth.

"James!"

"You've been busy this year," James hurried to say. "No one is blaming you for not having the time to go see Petunia." He paused before adding, "well, except Petunia of course."

Lily let out a reluctant laugh, shaking her head. After a long moment she straightened up.

"I won't be long," she promised, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. "Make sure the boys take their bath and brush their teeth before bed."

"Yes, yes," James grinned. "I'll take care of it. You just go and sort Petunia out."

Lily grinned up at him before hurrying to the hallway, to grab her cloak.

"Night boys," she waved, swooping down to kiss both Harry and Damien on their heads as she passed. The front door closed firmly behind her.

James turned to see Harry and Damien were almost done gathering their things.

"Okay boys." He clapped his hands, grinning. "Who wants chocolate ice cream with extra sprinkles?"

Damien shot his hand up in the air.

"Me, me, me!" he cried.

"Alrighty then," James said. "If you get yourself upstairs and ready for your bath in two minutes, I'll have a big bowl waiting for you."

Damien hurried to his feet and ran to the door, knocking Harry's pile of gifts to the floor in his haste.

"Hey!" Harry called after him.

"Sorry, Harry!" Damien's voice came from halfway up the stairs.

"You don't want ice cream?" James asked Harry.

Harry stood up with half his presents cradled in his arms.

"Not really," he said.

"How about another treacle tart?" James offered. "I saw where your mum put the leftovers."

Harry grinned.

"Deal."

He had taken perhaps two steps towards the door, when he heard it, the faint sound of something ringing. Harry stopped in his tracks, brow creased. He turned to look at his dad, but he was busy clearing up. Thinking he had imagined it, Harry made to walk to the door when it came again, barely audible, far off in the distance.

"Did you hear that?" Harry asked.

"Hear what?" James said.

Harry didn't answer. He turned to face the window. The dark night sky was all that he could see from the frosted glass. With narrowed eyes, Harry stepped forward, towards the closed windows.

It happened so suddenly, Harry could never have prepared for it. The echo of a chillingly cold voice rang around Harry, freezing him to the spot. It was a single word, one he had heard numerous times before, but never before was it hissed so fiercely in his father's voice.

"_Harry."_

Harry turned around, dropping his presents. He met James' horrified eyes. A split second later, the window was blown apart with such force it shook the walls of the house. Harry ducked, saving himself from getting impaled by a thousand shards of flying glass. Thankfully, his dad had done the same. Crouched on the floor, with his hands thrown over his head, Harry saw something flying in through the open window. It was small, silver and would have seemed innocuous enough, if Harry didn't know exactly what it was.

Before Harry's cry could leave his throat, the triangular device flew across the room and hit the wall. A tremendous blast shook Godric's Hollow before waves of fire spilled out every which way. Harry pressed himself into the floor as the blistering heat spread throughout the room. When he dared to lift his head, he found the walls were alight and black smoke was crawling along the roof like thick dark clouds.

Harry staggered to his feet, staring in horrified disbelief as towering flames continued to lick the walls and roof of his living room. Thick acrid smoke filled the air in a matter of seconds, stealing Harry's sight and ability to breathe.

"Harry! Harry!" Within seconds, James was by his side, coughing and spluttering.

"Dad!" Harry cried out, grabbing onto him, relieved beyond words that he was okay.

"Come on," James pulled him forward, his wand held out in front of him, but Harry was quick to hold onto his wrist.

"It won't work." He told him. "Not against this fire."

James looked at him, but didn't ask how he knew this. Instead, he waved his wand wordlessly into the air and a silvery white dog appeared.

"We need help!" James choked out. "Go!"

The bear-like dog patronus leapt through the flames and disappeared outside. James pocketed his wand and tightened his grip on Harry's hand, before pulling him onwards. Their way out was blocked. Fierce flames had spread over both doors, one leading to the hallway, the other to the kitchen. James turned to the fireplace, obviously thinking they could floo out, but that too was ablaze. The fire had consumed everything in sight. Most of the furniture, along with the Christmas tree and Harry's presents were already curling into themselves, reduced to nothing but ash. James grabbed the only thing that was still somewhat solid; the coffee table. Roughly pulling it to line up with the door, James kicked it with all his might. The table crashed into the door, knocking it off the hinges. Taking Harry's hand, James jumped out of the burning room.

The moment Harry came into the hallway, he realised the fire wasn't contained to only one room. Somehow it had spread throughout the cottage in mere seconds. Flames had already climbed the walls and covered the ceiling. It was then that Harry heard it. The screams coming from upstairs.

Harry felt like his madly fluttering heart had come to a stop. Damien was upstairs. In his panicked haze, Harry had almost forgotten his brother was waiting in his room.

"Dad!" Harry gasped, craning his neck to look at the stairs, which were ablaze.

James didn't waste a moment. He was already pulling Harry to the front door, ducking low to avoid the burning ceiling. He got to the door and flung it open before pushing Harry out.

"Go!" he yelled. "Run outside. I have to get Damien!"

"Dad!" Harry coughed, reaching out to grab a hold of him. "I'm coming with you."

"Get out, Harry!" James yelled and shoved him hard, pushing him out of the door before turning to the burning stairs and running up them.

"Dad!" Harry screamed, seeing him disappear in the smoke. "Dad! Dad!"

No matter how many spluttering deep breaths Harry took, it did nothing to the mounting panic in him. Before his eyes, his home was burning to the ground, and it was taking his family with it. Many times, Harry's hands flew to his pocket, reaching for the wand that was no longer there. He stayed near the door, his eyes watering, breath choking from the fumes, but he refused to move away, not until he saw his dad and brother making their way out.

They never did.

Harry waited for what felt like endless minutes, hoping, praying, calling out to his dad again and again, but all he could see were the flames devouring everything in sight. Harry looked around him, at the snow covered ground and dark skies. His dad's patronus was gone but no one had come to their aid yet.

Harry, shaking in a mixture of panic and fear, turned to face his burning home. He didn't have it in him to wait any longer. He turned and took off, running to the back of Godric's Hollow.

xxx

The snow crunched under Harry's pounding feet. A few times he slipped and fell into the icy blanket, but he picked himself up and continued running. He reached the back garden and ran to the small shed, that held odd bits and pieces, including spare broomsticks. With numb fingers, Harry fumbled with the latch before getting it open. He pulled out the first broomstick he could find. Mounting it, Harry shot off upwards and to the windows of the upper floor of his torched home. He came to his bedroom window and saw the flames hadn't reached there yet. In a single blow, Harry shattered the glass and flew into his room.

Harry could feel the heat coming from the rest of the house the moment he hit the ground. From his open door, he could see the black smoke cloud the landing. Still, he could tell every door was ablaze, every room filled with deadly smoke, except his. Had Harry been thinking straight, he would have taken a moment to realise this, to wonder why his room was fire proof. But the only thing on Harry's mind at the moment, was finding his dad and brother.

"Dad!" Harry called, running into the smoke filled landing. "Damy...Dad!" he croaked, coughing against the thick fumes.

Harry couldn't see, could barely breathe, but he made his way blindly to Damien's room. At the door, his foot hit something and Harry tripped, falling to the floor. The heat coming from below burned Harry's exposed flesh, making him yelp and quickly sit up. But what he found beside him, drew all of his breath in a single shocked gasp. His dad, Damien in his arms, was lying on the ground, motionless.

"Dad?" Harry choked. "Damien? Damy!" Harry's hands grabbed at both of them. "Oh God! Oh God, Dad? Dad!" He pulled Damien out of James' limp arms and into his own. "Damy! Damien! Damy!" No matter how hard he shook the small boy, he didn't get any response.

Coughing and gasping, Harry got to his feet, struggling with Damien in his arms. He managed to get back to his room, the only safe haven from the fire. Leaving Damien on his carpet, Harry scrambled back out to get his dad. The smoke made it impossible to see. The heat was unbearable but Harry didn't pause to even wipe the sweat from his brow. He fought the flames and smoke to get back to James' limp form. The lack of clean air brought Harry to his knees. He crawled, coughing the fumes out of his lungs, fighting back the cries as his knees and hands burned and blistered from the heat. His hands knocked into James' arm. Quickly, Harry held out both his hands and tried to levitate his dad's unmoving form. Nothing happened.

_'Calm yourself!' _his mind screamed. _'You have to calm down and focus.'_

Harry tried again, but his wandless spell failed. Blindly, Harry searched his dad's pockets for the wand and even the area around him, but didn't find anything. Giving up, Harry grabbed his dad's arms and shakily stood up. He pulled with all his might and began slowly dragging James across the floor and to his room.

By the time Harry got James into the room, his strength had given out. He fell to the floor, between his motionless brother and father. Fighting his exhaustion and nerves, Harry crawled to Damien's form. It was only now that Harry saw the burn marks on Damien's cheek and neck. Fighting down the bile that rose within him, Harry tried to wake up his brother.

"Damy," he breathed. "Damien come on, get up." He took a hold of Damien's shoulder and shook him. "Damien, come on," Harry's voice broke. "Come on, don't do this. Wake up. I need your help. Come on, Damy."

Damien didn't move.

"Damy," Harry sobbed. "Please, wake up."

Distraught, Harry turned around, crying out for his dad. His breath choked in his chest when he saw the fire lick around his door frame, precariously close to his dad's foot. Scrambling back up, Harry ran forward and pulled James into the room. But the further Harry pulled James, the closer the flames came, spreading into Harry's room, trying to catch up with James. They finally got him, climbing up his leg.

Panicked, Harry pulled his dad into the corner and fought off the flames with his bare hands, putting them out. It left the skin of James' leg horribly burned, but James hadn't roused from his unconscious state. Harry stared at him as fear clawed up inside. His dad should have woke up when his leg caught fire. The pain should have been intense enough to snap him awake.

Even as Harry stared, the line of fire inched closer to him. Harry didn't know what to do, how to stop the fire from coming into the last room of Godric's Hollow. His tearful gaze darted from one corner to the other, but he couldn't see a way out. Backed up against the wall, Harry saw the one and only escape route. His hand extended towards his fallen broom and it flew to him. Harry gathered Damien into his arms and awkwardly mounted the broom.

Forcing his frantically beating heart to slow down, Harry sucked in a shaky breath and held out one hand towards his dad. Pushing every fibre of his being into this one spell, Harry tried levitating James again.

This time it worked.

Harry let out a choked sob as he lifted James into the air and as carefully as he could, he hovered him towards the window. The fire raged behind him and Harry could feel the heat behind him, but he focused on taking his dad past the window and out into the cold air. Harry followed after him, his broom shaking with Damien's added weight and only one of Harry's hand steering it. Slowly, Harry guided his dad towards the ground, following after him.

But trying to keep his dad levitated wandlessly with one hand, while flying his broom with the other, all the while trying to keep his unconscious brother balanced on the broom became too much for the eleven year old. Harry lost control and all three fell, but the thick snow broke most of their fall.

Groaning at the sudden pain in his arm, Harry pulled himself up. Damien was lying next to him, but Harry's attention was on his dad, wanting to make sure he was okay.

"Da-dad," Harry gasped, pushing himself closer. "Dad? Dad, you okay?"

James didn't move. Harry reached his side and with great effort, he pulled James onto his front. James' eyes remained closed, his glasses missing.

"Dad?" Harry shook his shoulder. "Dad? Dad...come on." Harry panted. "You're okay. You're...okay, come on, now." He looked behind him, at Damien. "I need you to...to check on Damien. We...we need to make sure he's...he's alright." He shook James harder. "Dad? Dad!" his voice rose as realisation forced it's way through his stubborn denial. "Dad! Come on now! You have to get up! Dad!"

With trembling fingers, Harry reached for his dad's neck, placing two at the side of his neck. He waited, willed his thudding heart to slow down. But no matter how long he waited, or how hard he willed it, he couldn't feel a pulse.

"Dad," Harry sobbed. "This..this isn't happening. This...dad? Dad, don't..." Tears burned in his eyes as he cupped James' face. "Don't do this...you...you can't leave me. Dad? Come on, please. Wake up, wake up!"

Turning around, Harry saw Damien, lying still in the snow.

"Damy," Harry, no longer able to stand, crawled through the icy snow to get to his brother. "Damien, come on," Harry sniffed. "You get up. You have to get up." Sobbing loudly, Harry shakily put his fingers against Damien's neck. He didn't find his pulse either.

Harry broke down, crying in utter devastation.

"No," he moaned. "No...Damy, no!" he pulled the smaller boy into his arms, hugging him close as he cried. He turned his head to where his dad's cold form lay. "Dad!" he called out to him, again. "No," he gripped Damien tighter, curling into him as he cried.

The footsteps that fell were soft, cushioned by the snow under them, but Harry still heard them. He lifted up his head, tears still running down his cheeks. He met the crimson eyes, saw the smirk of triumph on the handsome face. The chill that washed through Harry had nothing to do with the snow he was sitting in.

Lord Voldemort didn't speak. He simply stood and stared at Harry, kneeling in the snow with the body of his baby brother in his arms. He gave a sideways glance to James Potter, lying dead a few steps away.

"Why?" Harry asked in a coarse whisper. "Why did you do this?"

Voldemort smiled.

"I didn't do anything," he replied. "This is your doing."

Harry would have been forgiven for thinking this was Voldemort's reply, but the tone with which he spoke and the way he enunciated each word, suggested otherwise. With a jolt, Harry realised Voldemort had just repeated what he had said in Riddle manor. When Voldemort blamed Harry for using the mirror to trick him, Harry had said those exact words.

"I...I didn't betray you," Harry sobbed.

"No?" Voldemort asked, crouching low to be on the same eye level. "I would argue that you have." His stare roamed Damien's small form, before he turned his head to look at James. "But worse than that," he continued, meeting Harry's eyes. "You chose _them,"_ he hissed and his eyes gleamed so bright, it seemed there was a red hot fire burning there as well. With tremendous effort, Voldemort smiled as he rose to his feet.

"Well, Harry. Enjoy your life with your...family."

He turned and walked away, passing James' unmoving form and leaving Harry sitting in the snow with his dead brother clutched to his chest.

xxx


	20. Sacrifice

**Disclaimer** I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

**Chapter Twenty**

The rain had finally stopped, but grey clouds still hung in the sky, shadowing the crowd below. A large group of people clad in black robes, stood silently as Albus Dumbledore offered a few words of comfort in the wake of a tragedy. His heartfelt condolence made Lily break down, despite her valiant efforts to remain composed. As she sobbed uncontrollably in the midst of her supporting friends, her son - the only family she had left - stood silently by her side.

Harry didn't say a word. He didn't turn to see the people that came to attend the funeral. He didn't turn to hold his mother, as she cried. He didn't even make the effort to listen to Dumbledore. Truth was, he wasn't completely aware of what was happening. His attention, his whole and complete, undivided attention, was on the two coffins laid out before him. One held his dad, the brave and loving James Potter. The man that ultimately gave his life protecting his family. The other, much smaller coffin, held Harry's brother.

It was strange, Harry thought to himself, how calm one could look after surrendering their life. James and Damien looked peacefully asleep now. When he had pulled them out of the burning Godric's Hollow, they had looked terrible, clothes singed, their flesh marred with burns.

_'It was smoke inhalation that killed them,'_ The Healers voice rang in Harry's head. _'It's very little comfort, I understand, but at least I can offer you this; they didn't burn to death.'_

The Healer had been wrong. It wasn't even a little comfort.

A hand rested on Harry's shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. He looked up into Sirius' puffy, red rimmed eyes, which were still leaking tears.

"Harry," he choked out and nodded towards the coffins.

Harry turned to see Dumbledore had finished his speech. Now, he was just standing there, looking at Harry with a pained expression, just like the rest were. With a sudden lurch in his stomach, Harry realised it was time. They were going to lower the coffins into the graves.

Harry stepped forward, through the muddy grass to walk closer to the coffins. He stood by James' side, staring at the unnaturally pale face that lay so silently against the silk interior of the coffin. Reaching in, Harry slowly stroked the face, trying to ignore how cold it was. Pulling back his hand, Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the tiny golden ball. For a moment, he stood and stared at the snitch grasped in his fingers.

_'This became a forever reminder of my victory, my pride.'_ Harry remembered his dad saying. _'I want you to have it. A little reminder that my victory, my pride isn't this, but it's my son. You, Harry, are my pride, my victory.'_

Doing his best to steady his trembling hand, Harry lowered the snitch into his dad's coffin. He ignored the stinging in his eyes, simply reaching up to brush at his wet cheeks. But when he turned to the small coffin on the other side, Harry found he couldn't move. His feet wouldn't obey him. Using all the energy he had, Harry forced himself to move to his brother's coffin. Damien looked so peaceful, as if he were only asleep. Harry could almost trick himself into believing that, if it weren't for those angry burns on the side of his face. Reaching into his pocket, Harry pulled out a single, slightly bent card. The first chocolate frog card he had ever received. The first gift his little brother had given him. Harry's vision blurred as hot tears welled in his eyes. He reached in and gently, he slipped the card under Damien's cold hands.

Gripping onto the edge of the coffin, Harry cried. He sobbed until there was no breath left in him. Two pairs of hands held him.

"Harry, don't," Ron's voice, thick with tears itself, whispered in his ear.

"Come on, Harry," Neville's equally pained voice came from the other side.

The two friends pulled Harry away, arms around him, supporting him back to the crowd. Harry saw Lily was in the arms of her two friends also. Sirius and Remus were comforting her, urging her to hold herself together. Lily's tear soaked eyes met her son's and she let out another cry. Freeing her arms from her friend's gentle grips, she held them out to Harry. On trembling knees, with great help from his friends, Harry made it back to his mother's arms. He hugged her tight, taking solace in her warm embrace.

Together, Harry and Lily watched as the lids were closed and the coffins were lowered into the ground. One by one, the gathered crowd took a handful of dirt and threw it into the graves of a father and his young son. Lily was drowning in her grief. She choked out Damien's name, cried James' name repeatedly. As Molly and Alice hugged her and stood by her side, Harry watched as the last of the crowd moved away, having paid their respects. Dumbledore raised his wand last and the graves filled, leaving slightly raised bumps in the ground. Harry closed his eyes and tears spilled down his cheeks. That was it. His dad and brother were buried. They were gone, never to come back.

Far off in the distance, the sound of wind chimes echoed. Harry opened his eyes. Turning his head, Harry saw a crypt, a good twenty feet away. Small, shiny, silver wind chimes hovered at the entrance, playing a tinkering sound as the wind whistled through them. The sound echoed in Harry, passing through him like fire. The sound of the wind chimes reminded him of a strange sounding laugh, belonging to a wild haired woman, clad in a shiny gold top and skirt. But more than that, it was what the woman had given him that had frozen Harry to the spot. The small bronze coin, no bigger than a Galleon, with a two-headed serpent engraved on it.

_'This will be your most prized possession,' _she had said. _'You will need it, oh boy, will you need it, and it will be your only way.'_

Harry stepped back. His green gaze swept past the assembled mourners to rest on the two graves. He stared at them for no more than a few seconds, before he turned around and shot off, running as fast as he could.

xxx

Harry apparated to the place he thought he wouldn't have the stomach to face again. The charred, broken state of Godric's Hollow had been almost too much to take when he came here yesterday. He had fought with Sirius and his mum, to be allowed to come back, so he could take the snitch and card from his room. His mum had finally relented and Sirius had accompanied him. The entire place was left in pieces, ripped apart by the fire; every room burned, except Harry's. Harry had forced himself not to think about it. He wouldn't think about _him_ and how he had planned to keep Harry safe from the fire, only so he could witness the death of his family. Harry knew he would lose his mind if he allowed himself to think about his once _father_, Voldemort. Harry couldn't deal with it, not yet. So, he had simply gone into his room, took his two prized possessions and walked back out, swearing never to return. How was Harry to know he would be breaking his promise in less than twenty-four hours?

Harry raced past the security wards placed by the Ministry, not caring a damn if he tripped them. He ran past the doorless entry and up the badly deteriorating stairs. He didn't stop until he reached his room. He ran straight to his dresser and yanked the drawers open. Such was his haste, he pulled it out entirely. The contents spilled on his floor. Harry dropped to his knees, searching frantically through his clothes for the small coin. He had thrown it in here, he was sure of it. Not finding it, Harry stood up and pulled open another drawer, dumping it onto the ground. He threw the drawer aside and went through his things. The coin wasn't there either.

"Damn it!" Harry cried. "Where are you!"

He pulled another drawer open and then another and another until his dresser was empty. His clothes and things were scattered across his floor but the coin wasn't there. Harry sat back on his knees, pushing back angry panicked tears. He ran both hands through his hair. What was going on? When he didn't want the thing, the stupid coin kept following him everywhere. Now that he was desperately looking for it, he couldn't find it.

"Harry?"

Snapping his head up, Harry found his wide-eyed mother at his door.

"Mum," Harry was stunned. "How did you know I was here?"

"The...the wards," Lily said, staring at the clothes dumped in the middle of the floor. "They went off. Remus said it was...it was you- what are you doing?"

Harry got to his feet.

"Go, mum," he said. "I need to look for something."

"It's not safe here," Lily said. "I told you that yesterday. The floor's weakened by the fire. It could collapse."

"So go then," Harry said, looking through his bookshelf, in case the coin was there.

"What are you doing?" Lily asked again. "What are you looking for? What's so important you couldn't wait for the funeral to end completely?"

Harry didn't let his mum's hurt tone halt him. He kept searching his room, going from one corner to the other. He had to find the coin.

"Harry, I'm asking you something?"

"Mum, please," Harry turned to face her.

From the corner of his eye, he saw something glint in the sunlight coming in from the window. Turning to his bedside drawer, he found the talisman, sitting exactly where he had found it on Christmas morning. Harry hurried to it and picked it up. The moment the cold coin touched his hand, Harry felt a sense of relief wash through him. A small smile crossed his face. He could fix this now. He could make everything right again.

"Harry? Harry, what is that?" Lily asked, but Harry pocketed the coin and turned to rush past her. "Harry!" Lily grabbed a hold of him, halting him. "What's going on?"

"It's okay, mum," he said and Lily's grip loosened at the smile on his face. "Everything's going to be okay now. I'm going to fix this."

Lily's eyes narrowed.

"Fix? Fix what? What are you talking about?"

Harry pulled himself out of her grip, but held onto her hands.

"I know what I have to do," he said. "Everything will go back to the way it was." He held her gaze. "I can bring them back."

Lily's face crumpled, like Harry had said what she was fearing the most.

"Harry," she choked back a sob. "Honey," she cupped his face. "No one can bring back the dead."

"Wizards can't," Harry replied, "but there are other forces out there."

Lily bit her lip and shook her head.

"No, Harry," she said. "Nothing, wizard or otherwise, absolutely _no one_ can bring back what is gone." She sucked in a breath. "James," her voice quivered, "and...and Damy," she shook her head. "They're gone. They can't come back."

Harry stepped back, out of her reach.

"I don't accept that," he said. "They will come back. I'll make sure of it."

He turned and went downstairs.

"What are you thinking of doing?" Lily asked, following after him. "Harry, please, talk to me. What are you going to do?"

"Whatever I have to," Harry replied. "This is my fault. I'll do whatever it takes to fix it."

"Your fault?" Lily caught his arm just as he reached the landing. She turned him around. "None of this is your fault."

"Yes, it is!" Harry suddenly shouted, catching Lily by surprise. She let go of him and stood back, staring at him and the angry tears glistening in his eyes. "This is my fault, mum!" Harry shouted. "All of this," he gestured to his surroundings. "What happened to...to dad and...and Damy," he had to stop. He had to take in a breath to ease the pain that erupted in him at the mention of his brother. "Mum," he took in a shuddering breath. "They wouldn't have died, if it wasn't for me."

"Don't say that," Lily whispered. "please, Harry, don't."

"You know it's true," Harry said. "If I hadn't come back, if I had stayed away, dad and Damy would've been alive today!"

"Stop it!" Lily yelled. "Don't you dare say that. Don't you dare, you hear me!"

"It's my fault, mum," Harry repeated, quietly this time. "If I had told you the first time Voldemort broke past the wards and sent me a letter, you and dad would've changed the wards. You would've stepped up the security. But I didn't tell you. I kept it a secret. My stupidity cost me the life of my dad and brother."

Lily, who had learned of Voldemort's correspondence with Harry shortly after discovering the bodies of her husband and son, kept silent. She was angry with Harry over that, extremely angry, but she didn't have it in her to talk to Harry about it. She didn't want to add to his guilt.

"Listen to me, Harry," she said, stepping closer to him. "None of this is your fault. Yes, you should have told us about Voldemort contacting you, but even if you had, Voldemort could've found another way to get to us. He found us in Diagon Alley, didn't he? That wasn't your fault. You didn't know he was going to come." She ran a hand over his hair. "This is no one's fault but Voldemort's. Place blame where it deserves to be placed."

Harry looked up at her, accepting the sincerity in her eyes. It didn't mean he believed her though.

"Okay," he said. "But I'm still going. I have a chance to fix this."

"Harry-"

"You don't want dad back?" Harry asked.

Lily paused, pain flashing on her face.

"Of course I do."

"And Damy?"

"Harry," Lily struggled to hold back her tears. "I would do anything, _anything_ to get them back, you know that-"

"Then let me go," Harry said. "You'll get them back, I promise you."

"What are you thinking about doing?" Lily asked again. "Just tell me where you're going?"

But Harry simply pulled himself out of her grip again and turned to walk outside.

"Harry! Harry, wait!" Lily called, running after him. "If you think I'm letting my eleven year old son go out alone-"

"I have to be alone, mum. It won't work otherwise."

"What won't work? Will you just tell me what you're planning on doing?"

Harry didn't answer. He kept on walking down the path.

"Harry! Harry, please!" Lily yelled after him. "There's nothing you can do, Harry! No spell can bring back the dead!"

Harry stopped. He turned around to hold Lily's teary gaze.

"Who said anything about spells?" he said quietly.

Lily stared at him with panicked confusion. Without saying another word, Harry turned and stepped past the anti-appartation wards. He disappeared with a small pop, leaving behind a distraught Lily, screaming his name.

xxx

Snow crunched loudly under Harry's feet, as he hit the ground. He stared around at the deserted grounds, where an entire circus had once proudly stood. Harry didn't know if the coin alone would summon the Gypsy, so he chose to come here, the first place he had met her. Harry knew his mum would probably have Sirius and the rest out looking for him. The last place anyone would look for him, would be the empty grounds where once a muggle circus had taken place.

Harry walked over to the spot he had stood and conversed with Gazelle. He dug out the coin and held it in a tight fist. He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath, which misted in the cold air. He turned the coin three times in his hand. Opening his eyes, he expected to see the smug looking Gypsy standing before him. No one was there. Harry frowned and turned the coin thrice again. No one answered the call.

"Come on," Harry growled. "Gazelle!" he called out. "I know you're here! Show yourself!"

A tinkering laugh sounded all around him.

"My, my," came her voice from behind and Harry turned around to meet her dark eyes. "Aren't we impatient?" she asked, leaning against a pole.

Harry strode up to her.

"Can you really do it?" he asked.

"Hmm?" Gazelle asked, raising an eyebrow. "Do what, child?"

"What you said," Harry bit back. "Manipulate the dead. Can you really do that?"

Gazelle laughed and straightened up.

"Oh, that," she lazily stretched, going up onto her tiptoes, holding her hands high up in the air. "Of course I can."

Harry nodded, breathing out a gasp of relief. A part of him had been afraid Gazelle was just showing off.

"Okay," he said. "You wanted a deal, right?"

Gazelle stared at him with dark eyes, a slight smirk at her lips.

"I did."

"Here it is then," Harry said. "You bring my dad and brother back to life," he paused briefly, willing himself to stay strong, "and I'll give you my magic."

Gazelle smiled, showing her teeth.

"Will you now?" she asked.

"Every last drop," Harry promised. "But you have to bring them back to life and you have to do it tonight. They come back as they were, in perfect health with their full powers."

"Oh my," Gazelle grinned. "That's a lot of work."

"You're taking my magic," Harry said. "Trust me, it's all worth it."

Gazelle laughed, taking a moment to look Harry up from head to toe.

"Indeed," she replied.

"So," Harry straightened up, holding his head high. "Do we have a deal?"

Gazelle took a moment before taking in a deep breath. She moved closer to Harry, bending slightly to look Harry in the eye. Leaning in close, she gently, almost lovingly, whispered a single word.

"No."

Harry was taken aback.

"What?" he asked.

"No," she repeated. "No deal." She straightened up and turned around, walking away.

"Hey!" Harry yelled, running after her. "What do you mean? You wanted my power."

"I did," Gazelle admitted. "But I'm not interested anymore. You made me wait too long."

"Gazelle," Harry blocked her path. "You can't do this. You're the only one that can bring my family back."

"I know," Gazelle replied, " but I won't." she shrugged. "Frustrating isn't it? When you can't get what you want, even though it's right there." She side-stepped him and continued walking.

A mighty gust of wind stopped her. The pole that she had been leaning against uprooted and flew towards her. It missed her by several inches, clanging to the floor before her. Gazelle, looking unfazed, turned to look at the enraged eleven year old.

"I won't miss next time," Harry growled, his eyes a dark poison green. "That pole can knock your head clean off!"

Gazelle smiled.

"Dead Gypsies can't fulfil deals, can they?"

Harry stepped closer.

"If you won't make a deal, you're of no use to me."

Gazelle's tinkering laugh made goosebumps erupt all over Harry.

"My dear sweet child," she cooed. "If I want, I can disappear faster than the blink of an eye. You can spend lifetimes looking but you'll never find me." She tilted her head to the side, studying Harry. "If I'm still here, then there must be a reason, don't you think?"

Harry forced himself to calm down.

"Will you make the deal then?"

Gazelle stepped back and folded her arms across her chest.

"You have a good memory," she said. "You must remember me telling you that you would ask for my help?"

"I do," Harry replied.

"Good," Gazelle said. "Then you know that I'm right. I predicted this and it came to pass." She stepped closer, smiling. "Do you remember what else I told you would happen?"

The memory came back to Harry; stuck in his cell in Nurmengard, Gazelle had tempted him with freedom in exchange for his magic. Harry had knocked her back then. He remembered her fiercely spoken words.

_'You stupid boy. You have no idea what's coming...keep that coin, boy. You'll need it, mark my words. You will bow before me, on your knees and ___beg___ me to help you!'_

Harry looked up at her and saw the smirk on her face. Her eyes glinted with dark amusement.

"Ah, you do remember," she said. "What are you waiting for, boy?"

Gritting his teeth, Harry lowered himself onto his knees, in the freezing snow. Keeping his eyes on her the entire time, Harry managed to spit the words out.

"Please," he said. "I'm begging you. Help me."

Gazelle laughed, throwing back her head in vicious glee.

"Oh dear," she said. "You could cut through steel with that glare."

"What do you want!" Harry yelled. "I'm doing what you asked. I'm on my knees! I'm begging you! What else do you want?"

"I want so much more," Gazelle said. "So much, even you'll be surprised."

"Just tell me, can you do it!" Harry spat, rising to his feet. "Can you bring my dad and brother back?"

"I can," Gazelle replied with a slow nod. "But that's not the question." She moved closer. "The question is, to bring back your father and brother, what are you willing to give up?"

Harry paused for a moment.

"Everything," he breathed.

Gazelle smiled, almost in triumph. She reached into her top and pulled out a small vial with a clear liquid. She held it out to Harry.

"In that case," she smirked, "you'll get your deal."

Harry eyed the vial.

"What is that?"

"The answer to all your prayers."

Harry took the vial from her but didn't drink it right away. He looked up at her.

"What will it do?"

"It'll bind your powers," Gazelle said, "and transfer them to me."

Harry had to fight the bile that rose in his throat. He nodded with great difficulty.

"So I'll...I'll be a.. a squib?"

"If you live through it," Gazelle replied.

Harry looked down at the vial.

"My dad and brother?"

"Drink the vial and you'll get your dad and brother back," Gazelle said.

"I may be desperate but I'm not stupid," Harry bit back. "You bring them back first and then I'll drink whatever you want."

Gazelle laughed and shook her head.

"Doesn't work that way. The moment you drink that, my end of the deal will be fulfilled." She smirked at him. "Trust me."

Harry glared at her.

"Not likely."

"You want your family back?" Gazelle asked. "Then drink up. If not, then drop the vial and walk away."

Harry took a long moment to consider his options. He looked to Gazelle before dropping his gaze to the vial. Taking in a shuddering breath, he uncapped the vial and held it up. He traded one last look with Gazelle.

"Just so you know," Harry said. "I don't need my powers to kill you." His fierce green gaze fell on her. "Don't even think about cheating me."

Gazelle giggled.

"I won't," she replied. "You drink that, James and Damien Potter will come back to life, back to the way they were, in complete health and with their full powers." She held up her hands. "Of course, your brother will have to reach his seventeenth birthday before he can get his full powers, just like other wizards."

The mental image of a seventeen year old Damien gripped Harry. Holding onto that image, that hope, Harry closed his eyes and brought the vial to his lips and tipped it up. The liquid was tasteless but the moment it passed his throat Harry felt his whole body tingle, from the tips of his hair to his toes. The cold air around him vanished and a comfortable warmth surrounded him. Harry had been expecting pain, excruciating agony as his magic was ripped out of him, but there was no pain. In fact, he didn't feel different at all. Warily, Harry opened his eyes, but what he saw stole the very breath from his lungs.

He was standing in a lush, expensively decorated room. A room he had fallen in love with the first moment he had seen it. Facing him was his bed, the one that he had grown up sleeping in.

"Harry?"

Harry turned around, staring wide-eyed as the short, plump and balding man before him.

"I know this is a lot to take in," Peter went on, wringing his hands nervously, "but you must make a decision."

Harry turned his head, catching his reflection in the mirror of his eight door wardrobe. He was no longer the pale eleven year old with haunted green eyes. His face didn't show signs of malnutrition he suffered at Nurmengard. He looked perfectly healthy, just like he had a year ago, when he was only ten years old.

Harry's mind was reeling. What had happened? Was this a part of the deal? Is this what the Gypsy had planned? Then it hit him. Of course it was. This was her way of fulfilling Harry's wish. She didn't cast a spell. She simply rewound time, to a year exactly. His dad and Damien were still alive. They were in Godric's Hollow right now, safe and sound, probably having dinner.

"Prince?"

Harry bristled at the name. He turned to see Peter Pettigrew staring worriedly at him.

"I've told you the truth. You know now how the Dark Lord has wronged you." He went on. "I brought you here, all those years ago. I wronged you too." Tears were brimming in his eyes. "But I can correct my wrongs. I can take you away from here. I can take you back home."

"Home," Harry said, speaking the word with dry lips. "Home," he repeated. "Yes. I want to go home." He turned to face Peter. "I want to go home."

Peter smiled, overjoyed.

"Please, hurry," he wiped at his eyes. "We must go, now."

Harry nodded at him. He didn't want to stay here for even a moment longer. Peter turned to the door and slipped it open. Harry turned around to see his wand sitting on his bedside table. Harry gave it one last look. He was a squib now. What use did he have for a wand?

Leaving his wand lying there, Harry turned and followed Peter out the door, ready to go home to his family.

xxx

"Come on," Peter whispered as they hurried down the corridors of Riddle Manor.

Harry followed close by his side. His mind was fixed to only one thing; getting to Godric's Hollow and seeing his dad again, seeing Damien again. Gazelle may have taken his magic, but she had given him more than he could ever ask for. By taking him back a year, not only did she ensure James and Damien were fine, she had erased Harry's trouble with the Ministry. The events of last year never happened. No one learned he had killed a man tonight. There wasn't going to be a trial looming in his future. He could be with his family for good.

Harry reckoned he was probably the only one with the memory of what had happened. He wasn't going to make the same mistakes. This time, he would be ready for Lord Voldemort. This time, he would do what he had to, to ensure Lord Voldemort didn't get anywhere near him or his family.

Peter reached the end of the stairs and paused to wipe the sweat from his brow.

"Almost there," he said. "Just let me transform and sneak out to make sure the foyer is clear."

Harry nodded.

Peter took a step forward and suddenly fell to the ground with a cry, twitching and twisting on the ground.

"Peter!" Harry made to rush towards him when someone grabbed him from behind. Harry twisted to look up and gasped. "Lucius!"

Lucius Malfoy had Harry's arms in a bruising grip. He hadn't quite twisted them behind Harry's back but still Harry was rendered defenceless. It didn't stop Harry from fighting though.

"Let go of me!" Harry yelled, trying to kick and twist out of Lucius' hold.

"I don't think so, Prince," Lucius replied, firming his grip.

Stepping out from the shadows, Lord Voldemort made himself known. His wand was still pointed at Peter, holding him under a silent Cruciatus curse, but his ruby red gaze was on Harry.

Harry's panic was rising fast, making him breathless. This wasn't supposed to happen. It didn't happen last time. They had got out. Peter had sneaked him out of Riddle manor. He had got home. He had been reunited with his family. He couldn't get caught. This couldn't be happening.

"How-?" Harry choked out. "How did you know?"

Voldemort smirked. He tilted his head to the side and Harry followed his gesture, looking over at the portrait that was the door. A shape began forming out from the portrait; a portrait of a two-headed serpent. Harry gaped in utter shock as Gazelle materialised before him. Understanding hit Harry, hard.

"You-?" he breathed. "You tricked me."

"Aww," Gazelle pouted. "Don't look so hurt, Harry," she said as she walked closer. "It wasn't personal. I was only doing my master's bidding."

Harry's gaze snapped to Voldemort. Such was Harry's surprise and shock, he stopped fighting to get free.

"You?" he asked. "You...sent her after me?"

Voldemort's smirked and lifted up his wand, ending the curse on Peter. He turned to face Gazelle, who bowed deeply before him. Looking back at Harry, Voldemort shook his head.

"I wish I could remember," he said. "I believe I would have enjoyed your look of utter disbelief even more, should I have known what it is I did."

Harry looked to Gazelle.

"You're the only one that knows what happened," Gazelle explained. "That vial that you drank, thinking it was something to bind your powers?" She laughed. "It doesn't bind your powers. What it does, is collect and bind the entire memory of last year into one, easily accessible memory." She grinned at Harry. "The only ones that know what happened in that whole one year that I have rewound, is you and me."

Harry glared at her, fighting to get free again.

"You're dead!" he spat venomously. "I told you I would kill you if you cheated me!"

"But I didn't cheat you," Gazelle said. "You got what you asked for. They're alive. They're healthy and as long as you stay away from them, they'll stay that way." She walked over to Harry's restrained form. "My dear child. I gave you what you asked for. You asked for them to be brought back to life. You didn't say anything about being with them."

Harry glared at her with angry tears welling in his eyes.

"You're dead!" he hissed at her, fighting with vigour to free himself. "You hear me? You're dead!"

Gazelle smiled at him.

"You'll kill me," she said, "but only if you remember me."

Harry stiffened in Lucius' hold.

"You see, when you didn't come back to our Lord, he summoned me from my world," Gazelle explained. "Too much time had passed. A simple Obliviate wouldn't be enough for you. The Lord would have had to memory charm you and you know how unpredictable memory charms are. They can be reversed. An Obliviate can't be undone." She moved closer to Harry. "So the Dark Lord told me I had to get you here, with the entirety of your defiance bound in one memory, so a single Obliviate would erase it." She tilted her head to the side as she looked at Harry. "Didn't you find it strange, Harry, that in the middle of a muggle circus, I happen to cross your path?" She giggled at the rage on Harry's face. "I knew where you were, because my Lord had told me where to find you. At every opportunity, I tried to get your agreement. You see the potion only works if you knowingly consume it. You have to know what you're drinking isn't for your benefit." She laughed softly. "Sacrifice," she whispered the word. "It's where the magic lies."

Harry didn't say anything. He only glowered at her with a hatred so fierce, she could feel chills run down her spine. She moved back and away from him. With a last bow to Voldemort, she turned to go back to her portrait.

"Until you desire my service again, my Lord." She gave Harry a last look before disappearing.

Voldemort walked over to Harry's struggling form and ran his finger gently down Harry's cheek, almost lovingly.

"Don't worry son, you won't remember any of this." He assured. "Everything will go back to the way it was."

Harry jerked his head away and glared angrily at him, through tear filled eyes.

"You can wipe my memories away today, but you'll get caught. I _will_ learn your truth again one day and when I do, you'll never be able to stop me from leaving you!"

The Dark Lord smiled.

"Rest assured Harry, if that day ever comes," he pointed his wand at him. "I'll kill you myself." He smirked before whispering the one word that would have Harry stand by his side again. "Obliviate!"

Hundreds of miles away, James abruptly snapped awake, his heart beating erratically and sweat gathered on his brow. James looked around his living room, at the roaring fire he was sitting in front of. His newspaper had dropped to the floor as he had no doubt dozed off in his comfortable chair.

James reached down to pick up the paper. It was then that he realised his hands were shaking. James took a moment to calm himself down. He recognised the feeling of dreadful anxiety but he had no idea why he was feeling it.

Had he fallen into such a deep sleep that he had a nightmare? James wasn't sure. For one thing, he couldn't even remember what he had been dreaming about. But there was something niggling at the back of his subconscious. Something in his bones that told him he had lost something very important_._

James looked up at his ceiling.

"Lily!" he yelled.

"What?" came Lily's reply from upstairs.

"Where's Damien?" James asked.

"I'm giving him a bath!" Lily yelled back. "You already knew that!"

James sat back, thinking. Yeah, he did know that. Lily took him upstairs before him.

"Never mind!" James yelled. He looked around his living room again. "Never mind," he muttered to himself.

He glanced to the Christmas tree, still sitting on one corner of the room. A reminder left by Lily to 'take down the decorations' hovered around the tinsel covered monstrosity. James stretched and settled back in his seat. '_Tomorrow,_' he thought to himself, '_I'll do it tomorrow._'

The flames in his fireplace suddenly turned green and leapt six feet tall before diminishing completely. James looked up at three very familiar visitors. Sirius, Remus and Frank all grinned at him.

"Hey Prongs!" Sirius greeted, stepping out of the fireplace.

Remus and Frank followed behind him. As soon as Frank's foot left the fireplace, orange flames returned, bursting back to life.

James smiled at them.

"You could at least let me know you were coming," he playfully complained. "I could've been busy."

Frank waved a hand at him.

"It's seven in the evening and you have a seven year old in the house." He winked at him. "You're not getting _busy_ for another ten years at least!" he chuckled.

"You would know!" James replied, aiming a punch at him, but the fellow Auror and Order member leapt out of the way, laughing harder.

James fell into the easy banter he shared with his friends, pushing the fading feeling of ominous foreboding to the back of his mind. James was never to know how close he came tonight to having Harry back in his life. There was no way for James to know it would take another six years before he met his eldest son, in an abandoned warehouse, behind a silver mask.

The End.


End file.
